


Say It/Don't Say It

by lekosis



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bondage, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Internalized Bigotry, Light Bondage, M/M, Past Abuse, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lekosis/pseuds/lekosis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Fire in his belly, and the look of focus on the Qunari's face, suddenly fixed and purposeful despite the liquor.  Bull's hand on his arm, guiding him through the dwindling tavern crowds to his rooms at the back of the building.  His own strangled silence, unable to say it, unable to resist or walk away.  Bull's arms, wrapped around him, the man's lips rough on his throat, urgent, joyous.  </em>
</p><p>   <em>Bull's weight pinning him to the narrow tavern bed, holding him down, his hands sliding into his trousers.  Katoh on his lips, but he couldn't let it stop.  The sweat between them, the Qunari's panting, his own quiet cries, the blurring of the world and the whirling of gravity..."</em></p><p> </p><p>Leo Trevelyan, the mage who never asked to become Inquisitor, trying desperately to come to terms with his feelings for a man he thinks can't return them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

SAY IT/ DON'T SAY IT

_**0**_

It was freezing on the battlements. The wind off the Frostbacks cut straight through his tunic, tugging at his red hair, but Leo didn't move from where he'd wedged himself into one of the crenellations. All that would happen if he went inside was that someone--or several dozen someones--would toss a new stack of crises in his lap.  
  
His brow tightened; he lifted the bottle in his hands to his lips, grimacing when he realized it was empty. Moodily, he slung his arm forward, hurling the bottle over the wall and watching it shatter on the rocks below. Despite the distance, the sound of shattering glass still made him flinch, still tightened a grip on something cringing and small in his chest. Exhaling, Leo scrubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head at his own folly.  
  
"Uh... Inquisitor?"  
  
The young man jumped, his head snapping up on the end of his neck. But it was only Krem, a wary look on the man's face as he approached, and slowly, Leo relaxed again.  
  
"If you're here to fetch me back to the war table," he murmured, "fair warning, I may light you on fire." He returned his gaze to the mountains, resting his elbows against the wall top.  
  
"Nah." Krem settled beside him, taking a pull from his own bottle. "Just looking for a little quiet," the soldier added. "Great minds think alike, right?"  
  
"Mm." Leo's mouth twisted. "Bull sent you to check on me."  
  
"Uh--well--" Krem coughed, avoiding eye contact.  
  
_(The day they'd met, the beach covered in corpses, blood running black through the rain-soaked gravel, the roar of the surf in his ears and a cheerful grin on the Bull's face. 'You're not just getting the Chargers.' His voice calm, his one good eye earnest. 'You're getting me.' )_  
  
Wordlessly, Krem offered him the bottle, and Leo accepted, taking a quick drink and then coughing against the harshness of it. Krem caught him wrinkling his nose and laughed aloud, elbowing him in the ribs.  
  
"You want to talk about it?" Krem watched him, studying his face as Leo passed the bottle back. "Not really my business, but your inner circle or advisors or whatever you're calling them--Cullen and that lot--they're walking on eggshells around you lately."  
  
"And why shouldn't they?" Leo sneered, a thin, frustrated hiss escaping from between his teeth. He lifted his palm, staring down at the pulsing green Mark in his flesh. "Perhaps they're worried I'll shove a rift up their asses if they look at me crosswise."  
  
"Maybe." Krem gazed out over the mountainside, his eyes roving over the winding road that led to Skyhold, tracing the shapes of the sea of tents that littered the valley floor. He took another swig from the bottle and passed it back to Leo. "Or maybe they're worried about you, after what happened on the Storm Coast."  
  
Leo's lips thinned, and he drank instead of answering.  
  
"Maybe your advisors think it's just the stress of the job finally getting to you. They might not even be too far off--you've barely had time to take a shit since Haven." Krem snorted, glancing at the Inquisitor with his soft black eyes. "But the boys and me--"  
  
"And Bull?" Leo swallowed and looked away, but Krem only shrugged.  
  
"--Can't help but notice you didn't start really biting heads off until after the chief got back from scraping those Qun arseholes off the side of the keep."  
  
Leo leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, the Mark pulsing hot and angry against his forehead. His brows drew together in pain.  
  
_('I never meant to come between you and your people, Bull.'_  
_'You didn't. I was the one who blew the horn.'_  
_'On my orders.'_  
_The look of pain on Bull's face, a kind of retreat, closing his face off in a way that Leo had never seen before, that felt like a hammer crushing his chest. 'Just let me have this one, Boss. Let this one be mine.' The shape of his shoulders as he walked away, and the strangled feeling in Leo's throat as he tried to find the right words to call after him, and couldn't. )_  
  
"I ruined his life," he whispered, unable to lock the words away from his wine-loosened tongue.  
  
"You didn't." Krem's voice held no judgment, but Leo flinched anyway, remembering too late that his decision, though it had severed their alliance with the Qun, had also saved Krem and the Chargers.  
  
"You didn't ruin anything, and I think you know it," Krem continued, clasping his fingers before him on the walltop. "But maybe you're afraid _he_ doesn't. Maybe you're afraid he blames _you_ for what happened. Maybe there's a reason you're so worried about his opinion of you."  
  
Leo took another pull from the bottle, then didn't resist when Krem gently pulled it out of his fingers.  
  
"He has a reputation," the Inquisitor finally whispered, his voice ragged, his fingers digging into his scalp. "The way he talks--how--how casually he--" He swallowed.  
  
_(Days after the Storm Coast, in the tavern, Bull's laughter, easy and calm, as if nothing had happened and nothing had changed. As if he had left nothing behind, as if he were still Hissrad, as if Leo had never seen him watching the Chargers trek over the beaches, tension in his silver shoulders and a tremor in his hands. The smirk in his voice when he'd said, 'Serving girls are frisky today.' His wink, and the iron hand squeezing Leo's heart.)_  
  
"Fuck." He ran his hand through his orange hair, trying to clear the tightening pain from his chest and throat. "That's not what I want, Krem."  
  
The other man took a swig of wine, and Leo could feel Krem's eyes on him, but he couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. "It hurts to look at him." Leo laughed, bitterly, helplessly. "After he killed the Qun's thugs, you know what he said to me? 'No matter what I miss, no matter what I regret, _this_ is where I want to be.' "  
  
"Which only made it worse," Krem hazarded, passing the bottle back. Leo drank deeply, finishing it off, then upturned it and watched the last few drops of crimson splatter against the battlements.  
  
"Will you--tell him?" Leo felt his throat tighten as he said it, and he glanced at Krem, aware of the fear that filled his eyes, unable to conceal it.  
  
"Fuck no." Krem snorted. "Respectfully, Your Worship, I know better than to get myself tangled up in the chief's personal bullshit."  
  
Leo snorted, grinning helplessly at how ludicrous it all was. "I suppose you've probably had this problem with him before."  
  
"Never with anyone whose ass was as pretty as yours, Your Worship," Krem quipped, then instantly froze, his eyes widening in horror as he realized what he'd said. He clapped a hand over his mouth. "Uh--! That is--respectfully--"  
  
Leo stared at him, mouth open, aware that he was flushing a brilliant crimson. Abruptly, he burst out laughing, and he clutched at the battlements, peals of mirth erupting from his chest.  
  
Krem coughed, embarassed, trying to suppress a smile and failing. "Uh--sorry, Your Worship," he muttered.  
  
His shoulders shaking, Leo planted his elbows on the battlements and rested his head in his hands. After a moment, he wasn't sure if he was laughing anymore, or entering hysterics. Swallowing, he tried to inhale, carefully, forcing his breathing to calm, staring with unseeing eyes at the stone before him.  
  
Krem's hand gripped his shoulder. Leo closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, and breathed.  
  
Finally, he sighed, pushing himself away from the wall. "Back to work," the Inquisitor muttered, casting a glare at the keep proper. He sighed again, rubbing the back of his head with one hand.  
  
Krem caught his eye, a little frown on the soldier's face. "Are _you_ going to tell him?"  
  
Leo looked away.  
  
"It's only going to get worse until you say it, Boss."  
  
"I know." Leo wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly aware of the cold again, even with the wine's warmth tingling in his veins. "I just--I can't, Krem, not right now, not after everything--" He stopped, swallowing.  
  
_("Like going to see a healer," Bull had said months ago, matter-of-fact, amused. A clicking sound with his tongue, "Thank you, see you next week!" )_  
  
Abhorrence rose in Leo's throat at the idea. The Inquisitor scrubbed at his face with both hands, trying to wipe the fear from his eyes.  
  
"Hey, no need to convince me." Krem pushed himself away from the wall, clapping Leo on the back. "I get it. Still gotta save the world, right?" Krem's eyes were full of sympathy. "Just don't let it drive you too crazy. We _do_ need you to save the world." One last squeeze of the shoulder, and then he strolled off, vanishing down the steps toward the tavern.  
  
Leo chuckled helplessly. "Save the world," he muttered to the empty air. "Right." His jaw tightened, his fingers clenching into fists.  
  
_(The Elder One's voice, still harsh and thick in his mind, his thoughts dulled by the cold, every inch of him battered and bruised. Haven, a smoldering ruin behind him, a frigid hand wrapped around his heart, bile rising in his throat, his eyes burning with the freezing, relentless wind._  
  
_And hours after the rage had been burned away, after he could no longer think, no longer even feel the screaming agony of the Anchor hissing in his palm, one refrain remaining in his thoughts to drive him forward when he thought he couldn't take another step: have to find him. Have to find him.)_  
  
Sighing, the Inquisitor turned and began to walk back toward the Keep, already running through his mind the list of fires that his advisors would need help putting out in the war room.  
  
But a corner of his thoughts was focused on the tavern below, listening to the drunken singing wafting from its windows, and he found himself straining to sort through the crowd of sounds, trying to pick out that one particular voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screenshot of Leo if you're curious: http://lekosis.tumblr.com/post/129829609870/i-wanna-see-adrleo  
> aaaand bonus vacation pic: http://lekosis.tumblr.com/post/129933718920/romantic-getaway-3


	2. Chapter 2

_**I**_

Leo sighed, each step as he climbed the stairs to his quarters a special kind of struggle, each word on the report before his eyes painful. Josephine was still negotiating an invitation to the Winter Palace, and Leo wished with everything he had that he didn't understand the language she spoke. He wished he couldn't fathom it, wished he didn't find himself agreeing with her on this idea or that, wished he couldn't hear Bann Trevelyan's voice in everything the Ambassador wrote.  
  
Nothing had changed, and the thought made Leo's lip curl, his eyes close briefly, his fingers tighten around the scroll, his feet stumble on the steps. His mother's voice was the Grand Enchanter of Ostwick's voice was Vivienne's voice was Josephine's voice, and nothing would ever, ever change. Even the report in his hands was only one of dozens, and all of them spoke in the same shrill voice, saying one thing, meaning another, as insiduous as any demon he'd ever faced in his dreams, speaking a twisted, convoluted language he was horrified to realize he understood perfectly. Words he wanted to strangle, a voice he wanted to _gag._  
  
Already, he was formulating his responses in Josephine's own tongue, the words aligning themselves without effort in his tired brain, and he could no more stop it from happening than he could stop the sun from rising.  
  
Scrubbing at his face and shaking his head, trying to clear it, he kicked his feet free of his boots, feeling a tingling relief flicker over the skin of his feet as the open air touched them. The sunlight filtering in through the tower's massive windows was just beginning to fade, afternoon dimming the autumn blue of the sky, orange light beginning to paint the faces of the surrounding peaks. Leo crossed the room like one half dead, barely aware of his surroundings.  
  
Finally, he stood before his desk. Apparently more scribes had come and gone while he'd been consulting with Josephine: a dozen more identical report scrolls already lay waiting for him.  
  
His lip curling in distaste, he tossed the scroll he carried onto the pile and turned away, trying to roll a fiendish ache out of his shoulders.  
  
Abruptly, he froze, his eyes widening.  
  
The Iron Bull was sitting, barefoot, on his bed, lounging casually against his pillows.  
  
"You've been sleeping in your closet," Bull commented, his voice calm, even, but somehow the statement was a mild accusation.  
  
Leo sighed and looked away. His jaw tightened. Too much, it was too much. "Did you need something, Bull?" The words emerged in the same formal tone he used in the war room, and loathing rose in his throat.  
  
"Let me guess--the bed felt too exposed."  
  
Leo abruptly found himself staring at the Bull, who was watching him--just watching him, his one good eye calm and even.  
  
Dumbly, Leo nodded, pain and fear creasing his brow.  
  
"So, look," the Qunari said, getting carefully to his feet. "You've been dropping hints; I get it. You want to _ride the Bull_." He took a step toward Leo, and Leo fought the urge to stumble backward, swallowing hard, every word in his repertoire slipping through his fingers, every nuanced phrase and calculated word falling from his grasp. He was suddenly acutely aware of the solid wall of stone at his back as the Bull advanced, of the warmth flooding his veins. "But I don't know if you're actually ready for this," Bull continued, his voice low.  
  
"I--I don't--" Leo could feel his face heating, and his fingers began to twist around each other before him. His eyes fixed on the Iron Bull's chest, and the Qunari took another step toward him, carefully, almost threateningly. "You're--mistaken," he stammered, forcing his hands to his sides. _Andraste curse it--not like this, please. Not like this._ His eyes slid sideways, his brows drawing together and a tight hand squeezing his heart.  
  
"See, I don't think I am, boss." The Bull finally paused, much, much too close.  
  
Slowly, firmly, his powerful fingers forced Leo's chin upward, and he caught Leo's gaze in his eye. "You've got a shitty poker face." He was smiling slightly, his eye fixed on Leo, his massive horns towering over him and catching the last of the late afternoon sun.  
  
Leo could barely breathe with Bull's fingers lingering under his chin. He swallowed again, still frozen. "Bull," he whispered, pain tightening his chest.  
  
"But I _really_ don't think you know what you're getting yourself into." He was too, too close; Leo couldn't think; the Bull's hand was rough and hot against his throat.  
  
Something snapped within him. Leo's jaw tightened, and he lifted his eyes again. "Then," he heard himself say, softly, _angrily_ , "why don't you _show_ me?"  
  
Abruptly, the Iron Bull had seized him by the arms, forced his hands above his head, pinned him against the wall, his face inches from Leo's. Leo inhaled sharply, warmth flooding through him, every vein in his system lighting up with hot electricity. His body responded instantly; he could feel himself hardening even as the Bull pressed against him, holding him against the stone.  
  
"Last chance," said the Iron Bull, softly, teasing, his grip unbreakable.  
  
Leo felt his heart give way, his throat working, his body trembling against the Bull's chest. He could feel the Qunari's growing erection, pressing against his abdomen, and he swallowed. _Tell him to leave,_ his mind wailed. _Say something, damn you, he's just looking for an easy fuck, tell him that's not what you want, tell him--_  
  
But Leo already knew he was too weak to walk away now, and his chest tightened in pain.  
  
"Bull," he whispered. His brows drew together, pleading. He swallowed, feeling a kind of despairing relief well up in his throat as the words fought to escape his lips. "Won't you--please just stay?"  
  
The Iron Bull's eyebrows rose, and his face softened. Slowly, he pulled Leo close, his rough lips curling into a smile, his arms fencing the young man in, leaving no room for escape.  
  
"Do you trust me, Leo?" Leo could feel the question humming through the man's chest, buzzing against his body.  
  
Leo closed his eyes, feeling himself sinking into the Bull's arms, unable to speak. Trust? He had never trusted anyone in his life.  
  
Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded.  
  
"Good." The Qunari's grip tightened, shifted. "I'm going to gag you, now," he whispered, his lips pressed against Leo's ear, his voice low and harsh, his breath hot. "Try to stay calm."  
  
Leo's eyes widened. _What--?_  
  
Before he could move, Leo found himself turned roughly, his face pressed against the stone wall, the Bull's body tight against his back, his arms pinned once more over his head. His heart jolted and began to pound, every inch of his skin on fire where Bull's body held him in place. A loop of cloth slipped over his head, settling between his teeth; Bull yanked it tight, tying it securely in place.  
  
Leo sucked in a sharp breath, unable to stop a tiny whimper from escaping his throat.  
  
"Relax," Bull commanded. "I've got you." The words triggered a flood of electricity through Leo's veins, and he moaned softly, feeling his body go limp against the stone before him.  
  
Powerful arms drew him away from the wall, bringing his hands together before him. With swift, practiced motions, the Iron Bull pulled the leather belt from around Leo's waist and wrapped it around his wrists.  
  
Leo felt his heart pounding in his throat, his skin heating, the firm grip of the Iron Bull's hands sending shudders down his spine as they worked. The Mark pulsed hot in his palm, electrifying his veins in time to his erratic heartbeat. He felt magic rising in his veins.  
  
The Qunari's chest and arms pinned Leo in place as he pulled the knot tight. His breath was fire on Leo's skin as he leaned over the young man's shoulder, forcing his head aside and running his lips along Leo's exposed throat, tracing the line of the gag along his cheek, settling hot and rough against his ear.  
  
"Hold still," the Qunari ordered, softly, roughly. Beginning gently, then slowly increasing in pressure, Leo felt Bull's teeth begin to rove over the skin of his neck, biting playfully, pinching the flesh of the young man's shoulder between his teeth. Finally, he bit down hard, pinning Leo in place against his chest.  
  
Leo's body seized, his gasp muffled behind the gag, but he didn't--couldn't--resist.  
  
Then Bull pulled Leo's wrists above his head with one hand, and with his other, began to undo the clasps that closed the Inquisitor's tunic. His breathing was slow and steady against the side of Leo's throat, anchoring him, grounding him, electrifying him.  
  
Slowly, relentlessly, Leo felt himself turned toward the bed. Even as Bull teased open his shirt, running rough fingers over his stomach, the Qunari's steps took them toward those silken cushions, inevitable, inescapable.  
  
"You won't be sleeping in your closet tonight," Bull murmured, his voice still low, but Leo could hear the harsh edge to his voice. _Anger?_ Then the Qunari had wrapped his arm, forcefully, around Leo's torso and slung him easily onto the sheets, pressing his face against the mattress. The Bull covered Leo with his own body, his weight carefully placed, the Qunari's knees on either side of his ribs, the heat of him fixing Leo to the bed, Bull's erection pressed against him. It should have been claustrophobic, but all Leo could feel was the Iron Bull, anchoring him in place, and a quiet whimper rolled from his lips.  
  
Slowly, but with a firm grip that brooked no resistance, Bull's fingers roved over Leo's back, sliding under his tunic, exploring shoulderblades and spine. Leo's breathing increased. He could see nothing, feel nothing but the weight atop him, those hands tracing lines of fire in his skin.  
  
Behind him, he could hear the Iron Bull's breathing, and a gentle sigh of satisfaction.  
  
Then he felt the man's weight shift, and he bit down on the gag, trying to curl his hands beneath him, but the Bull caught him by the wrists, overcoming his resistance and forcing Leo's arms out before him.  
  
Leo whimpered, trying to pull free, his struggles involuntary, instinctive, even as the bulwark of Bull's strength wrapping around his wrists sent a wave of shuddering heat down his spine.  
  
"Don't fight me," the Qunari murmured, his deep voice firm. With swift, efficient motions, his hands as relentless and inescapable as steel, he bound Leo's hands to the headboard. "I've got you."  
  
Leo closed his eyes. _What is...?_ He couldn't escape it, couldn't avoid it, couldn't stop himself from wanting it. His fingers tightened, digging into the leather that bound his wrists.  
  
Now, the Qunari reached around his torso, and Leo sucked in a breath as he felt the cold line of a steel edge--Bull's dagger?--drawn down first one of his sleeves, then the other, gentle and precise. He heard the sound of ripping cloth. Abruptly, Bull's fingers dug into the back of his shirt and tore it from his body.  
  
A cry of shock, strangled against the gag, vibrated in his throat as the fabric parted roughly around his skin.  
  
Bull's hands roved over his exposed back, roughly handling his shoulders.  
  
"You've even got freckles on your _back_ ," the Bull chuckled, sounding--satisfied?  
  
Then those hands were reaching forward, sliding forward along his waist and rising to claim his stomach, tease his nipples. Leo's spine arced, and he gasped, breathing heavily into the cloth between his teeth as one finger circled that point of tension, first in slow, gentle motions, then suddenly tightening to a harsh pressure on the nipple. Leo strained against his bonds, panting, biting down on the gag, feeling his eyes roll back in his skull.  
  
"Relax," whispered the Iron Bull again, his breath hot in Leo's ear. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Leo moaned through the gag, pressing his cheek against the sheets, barely able to breathe.  
  
He felt Bull's hands on his back, first the flats of his palms, exploring Leo's shoulders and spine, like a sculptor working clay. Then, slow and steady and warmer than any fire Leo had ever called to his own fingertips, the Iron Bull's knuckles began to knead into his skin, driving heat deep into his back.   
  
Somehow, as if drawn to them, those massive hands found every knot that had been tied in Leo's muscles for months, every sore point of tension, every stiff twist of his shoulders from days spent hunched over tables. Somehow, the warmth in those hands rivaling the heat in Leo's belly, the Iron Bull found every one of those little pains and a few Leo hadn't even realized he'd had, and worked them away, lifting them from his shoulders, lifting _Thedas_ from his shoulders.  
  
Leo felt as though the life was being drawn from his muscles, and even as he clung to the anchor that was leather at his wrists, he felt his world shrink until it was nothing but the Bull's massive hands, and all he could do was breathe.  
  
Then the Qunari was pressing his fingertips into Leo's skin, running them down his ribs, alighting on his hips and slipping firmly beneath the waist of Leo's trousers. The young man inhaled sharply, feeling those warm, powerful hands moving forward, moving downward, the sudden shock as his top button came undone hitting him like a thunderbolt.  
  
Roughly, relentlessly, those hands dragged his trousers away, peeling them from his legs, and Leo could only tremble, feeling the Bull's heat against his skin, his groin aching more fiercely with every passing moment.  
  
He felt the movement of Bull's body as the Qunari removed his harness, heard the thud as the leather hit the floor. Then the man's trousers followed with a quiet rustle, and Leo whimpered helplessly at the feel of hot skin against skin, sweat beading along his back. Bull's hands found each of his buttocks, squeezing, the motion almost painful, and Leo uttered a strangled moan, his spine arcing again, straining once more against his bonds.  
  
Bull leaned forward, his cock hard against Leo's ass, his chest pressing against Leo's shoulders, his lips on the young man's ear, one hand sliding down his abdomen and reaching for the hot tension between Leo's legs. Leo cried out in shock, feeling his entire body tense as Bull's fingers wrapped around him, tightening ever so slightly, the tip of his thumb gently caressing his tip. The Qunari was breathing heavily now, his own erection pressed like iron against Leo's buttocks.  
  
"Nghh," Leo breathed, the sound strangled and bitten off behind the gag. He bit down on the cloth again, his arms taught against the belt that held his wrists, his eyes closing as heat and electricity shot through his groin, filling his body, curling his toes. He was panting now, his vision whirling, the sheets before his face an impossible blur, the magic in his veins pounding against his skin, aching for release, converging on the hand wrapped around his cock. Leo sucked air into his lungs like one drowning, every fiber of his being focused on the fingertips that caressed his shaft.  
  
"You couldn't fight me if you wanted to, could you?" Bull's voice was ragged, but soft and satisfied. His hand's movement intensified, his fingers sliding over Leo's cock with practiced, relentless motions.  
  
Leo was whimpering now, unable to do anything but rock against Bull's body. He could feel the rush rising, waves of pleasure smashing through his veins, rising to a breaking point.  
  
Suddenly, the hand was gone, and he cried out in shock, an almost-scream that died against the gag.  
  
"Not yet," Bull whispered in his ear.  
  
A strangled sound erupted from Leo's throat, and he collapsed against the belt that bound his wrists, panting helplessly into the gag, his cheek pressed tight against the sheets. He swallowed, his teeth tightening on the cloth, and tried desperately to ground himself, to find some storm-tossed spar to cling to.  
  
Slowly, firmly, that hot, relentless hand returned, circling Leo's buttocks.  
  
Gently, Bull teased an oiled finger between them, sliding his way inside Leo's body. Leo let out a strangled cry, his spine arcing into the touch. A second finger followed, then a third, pulsing in and out, slowly and relentlessly, powerful, efficient, inescapable.  
  
"Relax," Bull murmured. "I've got you."  
  
Leo whimpered, collapsing against the bindings that held his wrists. Panting, he felt the tension flow from his muscles, but he could feel himself growing harder as his body obeyed Bull's command.  
  
"Good." Bull's weight shifted again, his knees tightening around Leo's abdomen. His hands wrapped themselves around Leo's buttocks, and then he was sliding into Leo's body, slow and careful, but relentless, inevitable, unstoppable. The mage cried out, whimpering against the gag.  
  
Slowly, Bull settled into a rhythm, his breathing heavy and controlled, and Leo was drawn into it, waves of ecstasy filling him, his own breathing matching the pulsing force that filled his body. Firmly and without mercy, Bull took him, rendering him helpless before a rising tempo of powerful thrusts.  
  
Leo began to moan in time with that rhythm, barely aware of the creaking of the bed, panting against the gag in his mouth, feeling the electricity flooding his thighs, his abdomen, his ass, his cock, washing everything away until he could barely breathe, barely hear anything, until there was nothing but waves of pleasure filling him completely.  
  
"Now," he heard Bull growl.  
  
Leo uttered a thin, hoarse cry, choked by the gag, and his entire body seized.  
  
The release struck him like an avalanche, and Bull's arm was suddenly wrapped around Leo's chest, pulling him close, holding him tight. The Qunari was snarling, a primeval, animal sound, and Leo's own cry of shock and ecstasy pierced it, their bodies arcing against one another, Bull uttering a harsh, strangled grunt against his back as they came together.  
  
For an instant, Leo felt his eyes roll back in his skull, and reality ceased to be.  
  
When he could see again, the whole world felt sharpened, every nerve in his flesh singing. The Iron Bull was at his back, and he was wrapped in the man's arms, and in that moment, everything beyond that embrace no longer existed.  
  
Finally, he felt the Iron Bull retreat, slowly, from his body.  
  
Gentle hands loosed the bonds at his wrists, pulling the belt away. Carefully, Bull eased the gag from his mouth, and he almost whimpered aloud at the loss.  
  
Slowly, still panting, Leo rolled to his side, curling his trembling hands close to his bare chest. Behind him, he felt again the warmth of the Iron Bull's body, drawing close, careful and soft now, as if afraid to frighten a skittish animal.  
  
"Bull," Leo breathed, the name a quiet prayer.  
  
He could feel the tension ease out of his muscles, along with all ability to move them, his entire body trembling with weakness. Carefully, _feeling_ like a skittish animal, he relaxed against Bull's torso, aware that he was shaking with spent adrenaline, that a tremor marred his whisper.  
  
This _is the man joking about tumbling serving girls in the tavern?_ Leo forced himself to inhale, trying to collect his thoughts, but they slithered out of his reach, and he felt as though he was drowning in confusion. His slender fingers curled around his wrist, the memory of leather still tingling against his skin.  
  
What had just happened to him was so far removed from anything he'd expected that his brain could hardly process it.  
  
"You okay?" Bull laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. His voice was softer now, almost concerned, gentle. Leo shivered, but didn't pull away.  
  
"I..." His fingers curled before him, and he couldn't still their shaking. "I..." The words wouldn't come. He didn't want them to come. For the first time in months--years--his entire life, he couldn't think of a single thing to say.  
  
"No worries, boss," he heard Bull murmur. "I'm right here."  
  
The words sent a powerful shiver down Leo's spine. He sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath of air, and felt his spine melt, felt himself dissolving against Bull's chest. Abruptly, he felt a wall of exhaustion smash into him, as if it had all hit him simultaneously: every late night deciding which troops to sacrifice and which to save, every early morning spent trying to squeeze more resource from the nobility, every urgent meeting in the war room at midnight of the last six months. Suddenly, he couldn't move, couldn't keep his eyes open.  
  
With his back pressed against the Iron Bull's chest, Leo suddenly felt, for the first time since he'd fallen from the Fade at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, as if he could relax. As if he didn't have to sleep with one eye open, always waiting for the next catastrophe to strike.  
  
As if he was safe.  
  
The last thing he was aware of as he plunged into unconsciousness was Bull's arm, wrapping gently around his chest, and the warm wall of the Qunari's body behind him, shielding him from the world.


	3. Chapter 3

_**II**_

The Iron Bull paused in the middle of a pull from his tankard when Krem elbowed him in the gut. The Tevinter man jerked his chin toward the tavern door. Bull looked up, and felt a sudden rush of aggressive heat tighten his stomach.  
  
The Inquisitor stood in the tavern doorway, late afternoon sunlight spilling in over the tavern floor around his feet, watching him.  
  
"I'm gonna go get another drink," Krem said, his voice a little too loud, and without waiting for a reply the soldier stood and vanished toward the bar. Bull barely noticed his absence.  
  
Leo approached carefully, weaving his way through the crowd, his eyes flickering over the tavern's noisy space. Bull watched him, watched the skittish way he twitched whenever someone bumped into him, tracing the way his brows furrowed in worry, the way those little wisps of red hair framed his temples.  
  
_Redheads._ Bull sighed in dreamy appreciation, and took another pull from his tankard, hiding a satisfied smile.  
  
_(His first sight of the Herald of Andraste, and his surprise. Krem had told him the young man was a mage, but this human was still climbing out of his adolescence, worry on his face, defensive sarcasm on his lips. And, slick and plastered to his freckled skin in the rain, red hair. Krem's smirk at the look on Bull's face, and Bull glaring at the man. You could have warned me he was a redhead.)_  
  
The Inquisitor was wearing a new shirt today, and the Bull's lips twitched. He could still feel the old shirt ripping in his hands, yielding to the blade of his dagger, those curls of orange hair tousled on the sheets beneath him, and he studied the clasps on the new tunic, already planning how to dismantle them. Into his mind flashed an image of the freckles that dusted Leo's shoulder blades, slick with sweat beneath his own probing fingers.  
  
_Fuuuuck._ Bull steadied his breathing, drinking again.  
  
The Inquisitor came to a halt before the Qunari's table. "Bull," he said, softly.  
  
"What can I do for you, Boss?" Bull was pleased: his voice was civil, cheerful even. Nothing out of the ordinary here.  
  
_(After they'd conscripted the mages, Leo, still wearing the closed-off expressionless face he'd been wearing since Bull met him._  
_'Is something wrong, Bull?' Wariness in Leo's eyes. His words, spoken quietly, delicately, classy as always._  
_Bull's grunt. 'Not too sure about all these mages around, Boss.'_  
_'Do you have a problem with mages?' Both of them acutely aware of the staff on his back. The furrow in Leo's brow._  
_Bull's amusement. 'Just not used to having so many around, Boss. Glad to see you gave 'em some boundaries.'_  
_'I can protect you from anything the mages do, Bull.' His voice quiet, a tiny flush rising in his cheeks. Bull's eyebrows rising. Really? This kid? Wouldn't have thought he was the type._  
_'Yeah, I think I'm good. I've got my axe.' Bull's humbs hooked casually into his belt as he watched the young man's face._  
_'I can do things an axe can't.' The words sudden, tumbling unplanned out of him, his eyes widening slightly, that tiny flush intensifying as he realized what he'd said. Aw, that's fuckin' adorable, you'd think he'd never flirted with anyone before in his life._  
_Filing the knowledge carefully away for later. 'I dunno. My axe has blood grooves.' Pretending he hadn't noticed the subtle invitation, pretending he didn't notice the embarrassed relief on Leo's face.)_  
  
"Bull, I need to speak with you. Privately." Leo's voice was quiet, his words almost lost in the tavern's chatter, and his gaze was fixed on a point above the Bull's horns, carefully avoiding eye contact. Bull caught the tiniest of tremors in the human's fingers before the Inquisitor clasped them sharply behind his back. _He's afraid,_ Bull realized.  
  
But there was the tiniest of flushes rising in Leo's cheeks.  
  
_Fuuuuck,_ Bull thought again, already feeling his body beginning to respond. He stood, trying to let the warmth flow out of him, or at least to keep it from being obvious. "Sure thing, Boss. Lead the way."  
  
Very deliberately, the Iron Bull suppressed his urge to pick Leo up, sling him over his shoulder, and haul his cute little ass up to his tavern room. Instead, smiling inwardly, he settled for watching the way Leo's back and butt moved beneath his clothing as the Inquisitor led him back to his tower quarters.

  
*  


Leo paused before entering his quarters, allowing Bull to pass him, shutting the door behind the Qunari. For a moment, he stood there, his hand on the latch, his eyes tracing the lines of the Iron Bull's massive shoulders, the movement of his torso as the man turned and settled himself in the chair beside the Inquisitor's desk.  
  
Reports still littered its surface, rearranged and picked up and set aside again until their arrangement had lost all meaning. Leo had moved from one to another and back again all morning, trying and failing to read the words before his eyes, unable to see anything but the outline of Bull's body. Finally, he'd gone to the tavern to surrender.  
  
Leo ran a shaking hand through his hair, scrubbing at his temples and feeling his frame close in on itself. Slowly, he inhaled.  
  
"We need to talk about what happened last night." He swallowed, his brows drawing together. "Between us."  
  
"Sure thing." Bull leaned forward, frowning slightly. "What's going on, Boss?"  
  
"Nobody's ever--nobody's ever done that to me before," the Inquisitor said, lifting his hands and staring at them for a moment before his gaze rose and he met the Iron Bull's eye. "I--" _can't stop thinking about you moving inside me, still feel the leather on my skin, felt safe for the first time in months, don't understand why I liked it so much--_ "--enjoyed it."  
  
"Of course you did," the Qunari said. A little smile twitched at the corners of his scarred lips. "Ben-Hassrath training, remember? Grew up learning how to manipulate people."  
  
Leo winced, but the Bull held his gaze, his face gentle. He lifted a hand, turning his palm up. "When it's a hostile target, you give them what they want." He lifted his other hand. "When it's someone you care about--" Leo's chest tightened-- "you give them what they _need._ "  
  
Leo looked away, pain tightening its fingers around his throat. _What I need. Like going to see a healer? Thank you, see you next week?_ He felt an iron wall rising up behind his eyes, locking him away, shutting everything out. _Andraste curse it, Bull._  
  
But he was so aware of the man's presence that it felt like every inch of his skin was crawling with lightning. Briefly, he closed his eyes, trying to walk away and knowing he couldn't.  
  
He could still feel Bull's eyes on him, watching him. Waiting for a response.

  
*  


The Iron Bull watched his Inquisitor's face, carefully, tracing the line of his brow as it furrowed, waiting.  
Leo was silent for a long moment. Then, he took a breath, slowly, and swallowed.  
  
"So... um." The young mage's voice was barely above a whisper. Leo swallowed again, carefully avoiding Bull's gaze. "How does this... work, exactly?"  
  
The tremor was back in his voice, and Bull felt a little thrill run through his groin.  
  
_Careful,_ muttered a voice in the back of the Qunari's mind. There was more than just fear in Leo's eyes.  
  
His movements under tight control, Bull stood and walked carefully forward, catching the young man's hands in his own. "Outside of this room," he murmured, "nothing changes. You're still the Inquisitor. You're still the Boss. But in here..." He saw the flush rising in Leo's cheeks. "I will never hurt you without your permission," he said quietly. "You will always be safe." A tiny shudder ran through Leo's narrow frame, and the Bull felt it in the young man's hands, felt the heat rising in Leo's fingers, felt himself responding.  
  
Bull inhaled, slowly, steadying his heart rate. "If you're ever uncomfortable, if you ever want me to stop, you say 'katoh', and it stops. No questions asked."  
  
Leo's fingers curled against Bull's palms, tracing lines of lightning on his skin as the redhead stared down at their joined hands. "No questions asked?"  
  
"You don't need to be afraid, Leo." Bull took a step closer, lowering his voice, tightening his grip on Leo's wrists. "Unless you want to."  
  
"Bull," the redhead breathed, his eyes sliding sideways. The Qunari could feel him trying to steel himself for it, gathering up the courage to say it.  
  
"Yeah?" Bull smiled lazily and leaned in slightly, stepping forward again until their chests were bare inches apart.  
  
Leo's gaze lifted, his cheeks flushing crimson, a wisp of red hair tumbling into his eyes. "Take me," he whispered, almost stammering, the words unfamiliar, foreign, awkward. _Oh, fuck me, he's trying to impress me, that's the most fucking adorable--_  
  
"Can do, Boss," Bull murmured, and then he yanked the Inquisitor against him, trapping him in his arms. Leaning forward, he claimed Leo's lips with his own, conquering them, and felt the young man's entire body stiffen, shudder, and then relax, surrendering to the kiss.  
  
Bull kissed him again, then a third time, sliding his tongue between Leo's lips. One of those tiny, incredible, helpless little whimpers escaped the mage, and Bull growled low in his throat.  
  
Gently, playfully, he bit down on Leo's lower lip, pulling ever so slightly at it. He felt the young man's breathing intensify, felt the human's heart pounding against him. Then, suddenly, a thin, hot crackle of electricity rolled over his tongue.  
  
Leo's lips parted, and Bull felt him suck in a sharp breath.  
  
The Qunari paused, drawing back, licking a stray arc of lightning from his lips. It stung, ever so slightly. _That's new._  
  
Leo was staring at him, fear filling his green eyes again, more lightning dancing over his freckles. "Sorry," he whispered, his voice ragged. "Ah. Sorry, it's just--"  
  
Bull chuckled and silenced him with another kiss, sliding his tongue between Leo's lips once more, forcing his way in, savoring the copper taste of the lightning between them.  
  
Beneath his grip, he felt the mage tense, lightning beginning to crackle over his skin, tingling under Bull's fingers. A rumbling, guttural sound of satisfaction hummed in Bull's throat, and he pinned Leo in place with one arm, sliding the other around the young man's torso to wrap his hand around Leo's ass. _Sweet merciful Koslun, I've fucked women whose asses weren't this perfect._ His fingers tightened.  
  
Leo inhaled sharply and bucked, fighting against his arms. The Iron Bull growled low in his throat. "Shouldn't have done that," he snarled, grinning in satisfaction, and Leo tensed again, straining against him, breathing heavily. Bull tightened his grip on Leo's waist, every little struggling motion only making him harder.  
  
"Please," the mage whispered, the word barely audible, every muscle in his body tense, but Bull could feel the young man's growing erection pressing against his crotch.  
  
Bull laughed quietly, and brought his lips close to Leo's ear. "You can fight me if you want," he growled. "It'll only make this more fun. You already know the only thing that'll make me stop." And he definitely wasn't imagining the shudder of appreciation that ran through Leo's body.  
  
The Qunari reached up and gripped Leo by the throat, forcing his head back; the mage sucked in a ragged breath, his whole body shuddering. Bull leaned forward, one horn rubbing roughly against the side of Leo's face, and ran his tongue up the side of the young man's neck. A shudder ran through his thin little frame.  
  
"What are you doing?" the mage whispered, pleading. Bull chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied, and then his teeth found the band of muscle between shoulder and neck, and he bit down, drawing a strangled gasp from his captive's throat.  
  
"Whatever I want," growled the Iron Bull. He ran his free hand down Leo's torso, popping the clasps on his tunic, one by one, nibbling at the human's neck, tiny curls of lightning stinging pleasantly at his lips and teeth. "Were you gonna do anything about it?" Forcefully, he began to walk the mage toward the bed, one hand sliding slowly, agonizingly down Leo's abdomen.  
  
Leo's body rippled against his chest, and the mage whimpered, gasping.  
  
The Qunari tore open the buttons on Leo's trousers and forced his hand inside, running his fingers over the rock hard column of heat between the mage's thighs, eliciting a sharp cry from his prisoner. Leo's slender fingers clutched at Bull's chest, and the Qunari snarled softly, caressing Leo's cock and savoring his little gasping whimpers.  
  
After a moment, the mage's body rigid against him, Bull drew his hand away, chuckling when Leo groaned, collapsing against him, trembling helplessly.  
  
The backs of Leo's thighs hit the edge of the mattress, and the mage twitched in shock, grabbing at Bull's arms and inhaling sharply, just as Bull shoved Leo backward, sending him tumbling onto the bed.  
  
Leo scrambled back, clutching at the sheets, and for a moment, Bull just watched him, his eyes roving over him--green eyes wide, red hair tangled in the sweat on his freckled face, shirt and trousers open, swallowing helplessly.  
  
_He doesn't even_ know _how fuckable he is,_ Bull realized.  
  
Slowly, never breaking eye contact, he reached into a pocket and withdrew a coil of soft silk rope--acquired just that morning, on the off chance. He'd carried it with him throughout the day, the weight of it in his pocket a pleasant reminder against his thigh. Leo's eyes widened when he saw it, and the mage swallowed, frozen in place. Bull watched his limbs begin to tremble, ever so slightly.  
  
Still holding Leo's gaze, Bull took hold of one leg, pulling the boot from his foot, taking his time, slowly tossing it aside before turning to the other. Leo's breathing intensified, but he didn't--couldn't--move.  
  
With that look on Leo's face, it took every ounce of the Iron Bull's considerable self control not to simply pin him down and fuck his brains out right that instant. Carefully, he controlled his breathing, slowing his heart rate, but he could feel his own erection growing more and more urgent with every passing moment.  
  
When the Qunari gripped the young man by the ankles, yanking his legs out, pinning them down, Leo almost cried out, fighting him, struggling to pull away, but Bull's grip only tightened, his excitement rising with every straining kick. With agonizing precision, the Iron Bull looked up, caught Leo's gaze again, and began to drag the trousers from his legs.  
  
Grinning lazily, Bull let the cloth crumple to the floor at his feet, his gaze roving over Leo's body, that pale human skin, those adorable, slender little muscles shaking in his arms, the gentle curls of dark, reddish hair between his thighs.  
  
_Redheads._ Bull sighed joyously to himself.  
  
Then, his grin widening ever so slightly, he reached forward and seized the young man's left leg. Leo made a tiny, strangled noise in the back of his throat, scrambling back, but Bull held him easily in place, letting the rope slide from his neck and looping it around the mage's ankle. Swiftly, efficiently, he bound Leo's legs to the bedposts, forcing them apart and tying them in place, all the while savoring the struggle, the little squirms, the whimpers, the harsh sound of Leo's panting, the rising panic in his breaths.  
  
"Please," Leo whimpered softly, closing his eyes. "Oh, Maker, please." Bull inhaled, slowly, appreciatively, every tiny whimper sending shudders of savage pleasure down his spine. _Even without the gag, he's so_ quiet.  
  
Wrapping his hands around the mage's legs, he forced them apart, grinning and climbing slowly forward over the bed, leaning down to run his tongue up Leo's left thigh.  
  
The mage arced against the sheets, fingers digging into the silk, straining against his bindings, panting heavily. His cock stood painfully erect from his body, and a fresh, crackling wave of electricity rolled over his skin, wrapping its stinging fingers around the Qunari's tongue. Bull chuckled, the sound dark and harsh in his throat. He licked Leo's thigh again.  
  
A kind of strangled, helpless noise struggled free of Leo's lips, and the Bull's lips curled in satisfaction against his prisoner's skin.  
  
His horns pressed against Leo's legs as he dragged his tongue higher and higher, the whimpers growing louder, harsher. The mage's fingers spasmed against the sheets, his nails drawing long furrows taught in the elegant silks.  
  
Abruptly, Bull dug his teeth into the flesh of Leo's thigh, inches from his cock, growling with pleasure when the human finally cried out, his slender body seizing. Bull followed the motion easily, still pinning him by the ankles. He let the bite dissolve into a gentle, teasing kiss, inching closer to that column of heat, that pressing need. With one hand, he reached up, shoving Leo's shirt open, rolling one nipple between rough fingers.  
  
"Please," the young mage panted, his lips parting. "Please..."  
  
Slowly, relentlessly, Bull slid one arm behind Leo's back, dug his fingers into the cloth of his prisoner's shirt and tore it away, dragging it free of the sheets. Leo gasped, a long, shuddering sound, and wrapped his arms around his chest, as if they could protect him.  
  
Slowly, never breaking eye contact, Bull drew away, leaving Leo helpless on the bed, and began to unbuckle his harness. Leo's eyes closed, his face turning away from the intensity of that regard, his breathing growing harsher and a little tremor entering his shoulders as he swallowed.  
  
_A fear response? From too much eye contact?_ Some distant part of Bull's thoughts, always on alert for such things, filed the detail away for later. Now wasn't the time.  
  
The harness hit the floor; it was followed moments later by Bull's belt, then his boots, then his trousers. At the sound of leather impacting on the stone, Leo jumped, his eyes shooting open again, his gaze flickering back to Bull's face. A rumble of pleasure rose in Bull's throat, and the Qunari advanced onto the bed, forcing Leo's legs further apart with rough hands, yanking them against the ropes, lifting them over his own hips, pressing himself against Leo's crotch. He cupped Leo's hips in his hands, pressing his palms against the skin, savoring the heat and the electricty that danced between them.  
  
Ever so carefully, he fitted himself between Leo's thighs. The young man moaned helplessly, his head arcing backward, his fingers trembling where they tore at the sheets, lightning leaving streaks of soot beneath his fingernails.  
  
Bull hummed pleasurably, leaning forward and pressing himself closer. Gently, he lifted the mage's torso with one arm, pulling him into his lap, and bent to encircle Leo's left nipple with his teeth. He felt the mage's breathing intensify, felt the human's body tense against his. His lips curled in pleasure, and then his teeth tightened.  
  
Leo hissed in shock, his entire body seizing, and Bull bit down again, growling into the mage's skin, savoring the taste of electricity as it rolled between his lips. Suddenly Leo's arms had shot past his face, seizing him by the horns, fingers curling desperately around the scarred bone, his slender torso heaving against Bull's lips as he panted.  
  
Bull sighed in pleasure, turning his head just far enough to run his tongue along the quivering muscles of Leo's arm, gently rocking his hips against the mage's thighs.  
  
His arms came up to encircle Leo's back, his hands fumbling with the little jar of oil he'd palmed. With agonizing, teasing precision, Bull coated one finger and lowered his hand to slide it inside of Leo's body, savoring the sharp gasp and the strangled cry the young man uttered.  
  
The grip on his horns tightened, and Leo's breathing intensified. Bull pulsed his finger within Leo's body, exploring, drawing a ragged, strangled, inarticulate cry from the mage's lips.  
  
Last night had been about the look of helpless despair and exhaustion he'd seen on the Inquisitor's face, about taking control too quickly for the young man to think himself into a spiral, about wiping the uncertainty from Leo's eyes before the young man had a chance to second-guess himself into panic again. Tonight, though, tonight was for Bull, a chance to explore, to get to know his partner. To give Leo's body what it needed.  
  
Leo's arms tightened against his ears as he worked, the slender human panting against his chest, his eyes tightly closed and his lips parting, electricity dripping from his tongue.  
  
Slowly, Bull withdrew his fingers, parting with one last caress, his lips curling in pleasure at the agonized whimper Leo uttered against his throat. Then, wrapping his arms around the mage's slender torso and pinning him in place, Bull shoved himself inside of the mage, letting the breath in his lungs shudder out in a joyous, ragged snarl.  
  
Leo moaned, his fingers clutching helplessly at Bull's horns, and the Qunari growled again, beginning to thrust, finding a rhythm. Hands on Leo's hips, he yanked the little human closer, until Leo's cock was trapped against his torso, achingly hard.  
  
His breaths came faster and faster, deeper and deeper, harsher and harsher, the mage's little cries only fueling his fires, until finally he felt Leo seize under his grip, his spine arcing, sudden heat spilling over his chest, and with a harsh grunt, Bull felt a release like the shattering of a dam.  
  
He bent forward under the ecstasy of it, the guttural sound continuing in his throat as he dug his fingers sharply into the flesh of Leo's hips, biting down on the muscle between his neck and shoulder. Leo cried out again, and the sound seemed to drag on in shuddering gasps, and Bull felt a wave of ecstasy smash through his veins at the sound of it.  
  
Closing his eyes, he finished it, his chest against Leo's, the mage crying out beneath him, fingers still wrapped tightly around his horns, skin against slick skin, lightning crackling in a sharp, sudden wave over their joined bodies as he came.  
  
Panting, Bull wrapped his arms tightly around his Leo's slender torso, the aftershock still crackling through him. He tried to calm his breathing, even as waves of pleasure continued to crash through his groin and thighs, even as Leo's body in his lap filled him with a kind of warmth he hadn't felt in years.  
  
Finally, still breathing heavily, he ran a gentle palm over Leo's shoulderblades, smoothing the tremors from the mage's spine, resting his lips on Leo's throat.  
  
The young man's head slid forward on the end of his neck, his breath hot and wet against Bull's chest, his knees trembling against Bull's sides, his arms dangling limply from the Qunari's horns.  
  
For a moment, Bull simply held him, their breathing synchronized, gradually calming.  
  
"Bull," Leo whispered, just as he had the previous night. Like a tiny, desperate prayer.  
  
The Iron Bull ran his scarred lips over the mage's shoulder. "You never said katoh," the Qunari murmured into Leo's skin. Slowly, gently, he eased himself from his lover's body. "Gotta admit, I'm a little impressed."  
  
Leo said nothing, breathing softly into Bull's chest, his body trembling.  
  
The Qunari's head tilted curiously, letting his eye play over the mage's face. Leo's eyes were closed, his lips parted, his breathing still heavy, but there was a little furrow returning to his brow, and Bull could feel him tensing up again, as if he was waiting for something. _Still so quiet,_ Bull thought. Carefully, one arm still wrapped around Leo's torso, Bull twisted and reached behind him for the mage's ankles, loosening first one knot, then the other, freeing Leo's legs. Gently, he shifted the young man's weight, prying nerveless fingers from his horns, laying the young man's unresisting body back on the bed.  
  
"Bull," Leo said again, and the Qunari settled back beside him, drawing the mage close. Leo rested his cheek against Bull's chest, his eyes closed tightly, a tiny furrow between his brows.  
  
"Yeah, Boss?"  
  
"What are we...doing, exactly?" The question was quiet, withdrawn, any feeling in the words locked behind that furrow in Leo's brow.  
  
Bull ran a teasing finger down the side of Leo's throat, grinning when the mage shivered. "This is as casual as you want it to be, Boss. No pressure." Those brows tightened, and Bull frowned slightly, wondering. But Leo's face was completely closed off, as shut down as he'd ever been in the time the Bull had known him, and the Qunari thought idly, _How long has it been since he actually talked to someone?_  
  
"As casual as I want it to be," Leo repeated quietly, idly. His tone was easy, casual, just a hint of tension beneath the surface. "How _do_ the Qunari show... I don't know... lasting commitment?"  
  
"They don't." Bull ran a teasing finger over Leo's shoulder, and the mage shivered appreciatively. "Qunari don't have sex for love, remember?"  
  
For a moment, Leo didn't answer.  
  
"Just seems lonely," he finally murmured, his body slowly beginning to relax.  
  
Bull felt his own brow furrowing, his brain turning the words over, examining them from every angle, trying to find the meaning beneath them. _"You've got a shitty poker face,"_ he'd said to the mage on their first night, when he'd just thought Leo was too shy to ask for it straight, but now, he wondered.  
  
"Well, there is this old tradition," he heard himself say. "For people with a strong bond. You take a dragon's tooth, and you break it in half, and each person takes a piece. That way, no matter where life takes you, you're always together." He chuckled, smiling to himself. "Sentimental bullshit, right?"  
  
"You said..." Eyes still closed, Leo let his fingers curl against Bull's chest. A stray arc of lightning danced between them, stinging the skin. "You said this was something I needed. What did you mean by that?"  
  
"You never asked for this Inquisitor gig." Bull shifted his weight, settling himself against the pillows, one arm tucked behind his head. "It just got dumped on you, and now you're responsible for all these lives, all these decisions, and you have to live with it, all day, every day. You need a place where you can be safe. Where someone else is in charge."  
  
Leo finally opened his eyes, lifting his gaze to stare at the Bull, his brows lifting in shock, then furrowing in fear. Bull could almost hear the young man's thoughts: _How did he know that? How can he see that?_ The young man swallowed. "You're right," he breathed.  
  
"I figured." Bull shifted his weight, getting comfortable, a little ripple running over his stomach as the open air began to dry the sweat on his skin. "You'd have thrown me out otherwise."  
  
"What about _you_?" Leo was almost frowning, pushing himself up, watching Bull's face nervously. "What about what _you_ need?"  
  
_That's adorable, he's worried I'll get bored and call it quits._ Bull grinned. "You, uh, really don't need to worry about me, Boss," he chuckled. _Hnnn, sweet Qun do you not need to worry about me,_ he added mentally, letting his gaze slide down Leo's torso, lingering on that fantastic, smooth little ass. "Ol' Iron Bull is doing _just_ fine." He couldn't keep a note of smug satisfaction from his voice.  
  
Leo's eyes narrowed and his brow drew together again, searching Bull's face, but eventually he settled back down, fitting himself against Bull's side.  
  
"Is this what you do to the serving girls?" The question was sudden, but any feeling in it was still locked away behind that furrow in Leo's brow.  
  
"Nah." Bull wrapped his arm around Leo's bare shoulder, letting his fingers trail down the mage's arm, then his ribcage. "They have to take orders and like it, all day long. I let 'em bounce on top, tell 'em they have nice tits, everybody wins." He paused, clearing his throat. "Well, I used to. Now that we're doing this, you've got my full attention, Boss."  
  
"Ben-Hassrath training, huh," Leo muttered, and Bull chuckled, shifting until he could pull one of the blankets over them both.  
  
They fell asleep like that, Leo's head pillowed on the Qunari's shoulder, the Iron Bull's snores echoing off the walls of the Inquisitor's quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

**_III_ **

"I think that's enough for today," Leo said tiredly, pushing away from the war table with some effort. "I leave for the Hinterlands in the morning. Have we secured an invitation to the Grand Duchess'... gathering yet?" He glanced at the windows; already the sun was behind the peaks, the sky darkening and the shadows of the keep swallowing up the world outside.  
  
"Our invitation comes from the Grand Duke Gaspard," Josephine said, inclining her head from across the war table, "and I should like to discuss that further with you another time, but for now, all is in order, Your Worship. Everything will be prepared for Halamshiral when you return, Inquisitor." She bowed slightly, collecting her notes into a tidy stack in swift, efficient motions. As one, the advisors fell back from the table, splitting away to hold quiet discussions, sending for messengers, scribbling notes.  
  
Sighing with relief, Leo turned away, headed for the war room's door, but paused when he found Leliana waiting for him, one eyebrow raised.  
  
Her eyes slid to the other advisors, then back to his face. Discreetly, she nodded toward the door, and Leo sighed, following her.  
  
Once they were safely in the privacy of the hallway, Leliana turned and shut the door behind them. "Something is bothering you," she said quietly, watching his face. "Something to do with your new... friendship... with the Iron Bull, perhaps?"  
  
Leo sighed, closing his eyes painfully. "Does everyone know?"  
  
Leliana laid a hand on his shoulder. "Of course not," she said, smiling slightly. "I notice, but it is my business to notice such things. I meant no disrespect, Inquisitor. I simply wondered if everything's all right. You do seem... more calm... lately. But perhaps a little troubled."  
  
"It's nothing," Leo said, his words clipped. He turned and walked past her. "If there's nothing else..." He left without waiting for a reply.  
  
Troubled, he thought to himself as he climbed the stairs to his quarters, his lip curling in disgust. _Troubled._ A snort escaped his lips.  
  
He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply, the familiar smell of dust in his tower calming him, just a little. The workmen had prioritized--on his own orders--other parts of the keep's repairs, more visible parts, leaving half-built scaffolding and scattered boxes of supplies lingering in Leo's stairwell. The last faint glow of the dying sun trickled in through unwashed windows, and the dusty stair took on a faded, surreal feeling in the gathering dark. It was reassuring: so long as the tower wasn't presentable, Josephine couldn't bring dignitaries up here.  
  
No one outside of the Inquisition would have even guessed that this derelict tower stair led to the Inquisitor's own quarters, but then, hardly anyone, even inside the Inquisition, had ever been invited to Leo's chambers.  
  
Leo reached the top of his stairs and opened his door carefully, listening, letting his eyes rove over the wide, sparse area, but the room was empty.  
  
He was almost surprised. He hadn't indicated that he'd be bringing Bull with him in the morning, and he'd thought the Qunari would be waiting here tonight. _One for the road, Boss?_  
  
Part of him was disappointed. A few nights ago, Bull had bound and taken him on the balcony that looked out over the mountains, tied to the railing, the wind cold in his face and the Bull's body hot against his back, those rough hands wrapped tight around his hips, that heat moving inside of him, relentless, inexorable, until he'd surrendered to it, as they had both known he would. He sighed, letting the memory wash over him, unconsciously rubbing his wrists.  
  
_(Bull's name on his lips after it was finished, a quiet prayer, just as he said it after every time Bull took him, unable to stop himself, the closest he ever came to saying the other thing, the thing that would make it stop, that would push Bull away. Bull's voice on that second night, casual and lazy, 'Qunari don't have sex for love.' )_  
  
Leo fell into his couch with a sigh, pulling his boots off and kicking them aside. Leaning back, he let his head flop against the back of the couch, his hands sliding limply to the cushions. A headache had begun to gnaw at his temples.  
  
_"When it's someone you care about, you give them what they need,"_ Bull's voice whispered in the back of his mind, and Leo felt his lip curl. _"Like going to a healer. Thank you, see you next week!"_  
  
Abruptly, Leo snarled aloud and shoved himself away from the couch, seizing one of its little silk cushions and hurling it into a corner. It bounced heavily off of the armor stand that bore his reinforced coat, the Inquisitor's coat, setting it swaying and creaking on its stand.  
  
Leo glared at the coat, his fingers curling against his palms. Clean, white leather and finely-tooled silver clasps, the kind an _Inquisitor_ should wear, the kind of coat a _leader_ needed, to _inspire_ people.  
  
_His_ coat.  
  
Exhaling roughly and running a hand through his hair--old, familiar habit--Leo turned away from it and toppled onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow.  
  
The silk beneath his cheek smelled like the Iron Bull.  
  
Leo snarled again, shaking his head, trying to clear the thoughts from his mind, trying to shut them away in the box at the back of his brain.  
_"When it's someone you care about, you give 'em what they need,"_ he heard the Qunari tell him again, in that powerful, irresistible voice. _"Someone you care about..."_ Groaning, Leo dragged the blanket over himself, not even caring enough to undress before burying himself in the comforter. He suddenly realized he was shaking, realized how lost he felt in the cushioned space of this bed without Bull beside him. His eyes slid to the closet, the tiny enclosed space where he'd hidden himself away after Haven, the only place he'd been able to relax enough to sleep in the entire keep, until the night Bull had appeared in his quarters.  
  
He swallowed, and looked away.  
  
His thoughts churned through his brain as he stared up at the headboard, where the tangled belt still dangled, waiting. It had been there since that first night, a kind of talisman, and each time he'd lifted a hand to pull it down and put it away, something had stopped him.  
  
_(The leather wrapped around his straining wrists, tight but not painful, and the gag between his teeth, and the Bull's hands on his back. )_  
  
Abruptly, something crystallized within his heart, and staring up at that length of dark leather, Leo realized, _I can't keep doing this to myself._  
  
_Something has to give._  
  
As if the thought had been a signal, he was suddenly utterly drained. He sighed, closing his eyes to let his exhaustion have its way.  
  
Softly, right on the edge between his waking and sleeping selves, another remembered murmur threaded through his thoughts: _"Well,"_ Iron Bull had said, _"There is this one tradition. You take a dragon's tooth, and you break it in half..." His chuckle. "Sentimental bullshit, right?"_  
  
And even as he fell asleep, a defiant, furious scowl tightened across Leo's brow.

  
*  


The Iron Bull woke with a start when his door banged open, spilling early morning sunlight in from the garden behind the tavern. He was snarling, reaching for the axe beside his bed, until his eyes focused properly and he found Leo standing in his doorway.  
  
The young mage was wearing his armored coat, his staff in its sling on his back, the morning light burning in his red hair.  
  
"Get your armor," the Inquisitor said. "We're headed for the Hinterlands."  
  
The Iron Bull raised his eyebrows slightly, but shoved his blankets aside, extremely aware of the flush that rose in Leo's cheeks at the sight of Bull's nudity. "Sure thing, Boss," the Qunari drawled, grabbing his harness. "Meet you out front?"  
  
"We'll leave as soon as you're ready," Leo said, his voice quiet but calm. Bull recognized the look: his Inquisitor face, the face he wore when he didn't want anyone to ask questions, a wall of iron behind his eyes. He got hard to read at those times, but now, today, there was a kind of defiance in the way he furrowed his brow--as if he was daring Bull to do something, to say something.  
  
_What's going on?_  
  
"I'll be right there," Bull said, carefully, slinging the harness over his shoulder and reaching for his trousers. When he looked up, the Inquisitor was gone. Bull pursed his lips, turning the memory of him over in his mind, hunting for some meaning to it, but finding nothing.  
  
_Did I go too far, last time? But he never said katoh._ He thought about asking Leo about it, forcing the issue, but eventually decided to let the Inquisitor be the Inquisitor for a while.  
  
The trek down from the Frostbacks took a few days, and it was another week after that before the foothills broke down into the rolling, yellow-tufted crags of the Hinterlands. They paused regularly to rest their mounts; even the massive, aggressive charger that Bull rode, the only creature Dennet had been able to find that would bear the Iron Bull's weight, couldn't carry him for long without a chance to recover.  
  
All along the road, they were continually overtaken by riders on swift horses and Leliana's black messenger birds, little scrolls tied to their claws, each one of them finding Leo, bringing some word to his ears or asking for a decision. Each time, Leo would rattle off a few questions or peruse the message with a furrow in his brow, run his hand irritably through his orange hair, and then send the messenger off again with fresh orders. When they hit Inquisition camps, one or another of their officers was always waiting for him with more things to discuss, more problems to solve, and throughout the journey, Bull watched as Leo's face drew tighter and tighter, some kind of anger eating him up, but kept firmly under control behind the Inquisitor face.  
  
Bull, watching him, wondered idly, _Was this what I was like when they had me trying to suppress the rebels in Seheron?_  
  
He stored the thoughts away for later, knowing what Leo needed, hoping they'd be able to find the time.  
  
Often, they rode out like this in search of a particular target, or to solve some particular problem. Leo usually told them ahead of time what they were walking into, but not always, and this time, he simply rode in silence, letting his companions' conversations roll around him like waves around a stone on the shore.  
  
On rides like these, Bull liked to amuse himself by trying to guess what they were after. Besides himself, he noted, the Inquisitor had brought Cole and Blackwall along, which meant he had a big target, one he needed hit hard. Cole's particular strengths in the field were pretty targeted; his wasn't the kind of combat style that favored multiple opponents, so they were after a single enemy. Blackwall, even with the two-handed techniques he was mastering, was still a defensive fighter at heart, so whatever they were facing, Leo was expecting hard, drawn-out combat.  
  
Interestingly, he noted that the Inquisitor was carrying a different staff on this ride, the shaft a darker wood, an aura of frost surrounding its head, not the flame the young man usually favored. Leo was pretty picky about his staves, so they were up against something flame wouldn't be effective against, maybe?  
  
_When did I start noticing this stuff?_ Bull snorted at himself. _Really? What kind of_ staff _he usually uses?_ But the thought came and went, his brain returning to the problem of what they might be headed toward. It didn't seem like the Inquisitor had told Blackwall, either.  
  
Intrigued, Bull let the possibilities stream through his thoughts as they rode, laughing at Blackwall's jokes, trying not to cringe whenever Cole said anything, trying not to dwell on the way the spirit had put thoughts of Tama in his head, trying not to let it show how much the memory cut as it rolled over in his brain. Instead, he made idle lists of new moves he might teach Krem, or noted places they passed where the Chargers might be useful, or imagined the shape of Leo's shoulders in the dark, the feel of wiry staff-muscles tensing beneath his fingers, and pretended the spirit wasn't there.  
  
Once, though, Cole had looked up at Leo's back from a horse behind him, gazing at the mage from beneath the brim of his hat. "You're angry, because you're afraid," he'd said, inhuman wonder in his voice. "I can hear it on your tongue, it's waiting for you to say it. You'll feel better when you say it. Why don't you say it?"  
  
"Not now, Cole," Leo had snapped, almost the only words he'd spoken to any of them on the entire ride, and the spirit had fallen into confused silence.  
  
Bull had carefully filed the moment away for later consideration.  
  
They'd finally made camp deep in the north of the Hinterlands, not far from Redcliffe, at one of the Inquisition's outposts up in the rocky hills along the trade roads. Leo had stationed forces here a few weeks ago, watching the entrance to a narrow canyon. Not much traveled through that canyon, though Bull thought he remembered Varric saying something about finding red lyrium growing in the pass.  
  
_Is that what we're after? Red templars?_  
  
The sun had long since set when they finally entered the camp, and Leo turned to face his people as soon as he slid from his horse. "Get some rest," he said softly as they dismounted and passed their horses off to the scouts to care for. "We'll move out when it's light. I'm expecting hard combat. Be ready."  
  
"Sure thing, Boss," Bull said, his voice even and easy, but inwardly he wanted to grab Leo by the shoulders and shake him, yelling, _What the fuck are we here to kill?_  
  
Turning away without a word, the Inquisitor headed for one of the camp's spare tents, not even glancing their way.  
  
_("Outside this room, nothing changes. You're still the Inquisitor. You're still the Boss." His own words, coming back to haunt him.)_  
  
Snarling silently in frustration, irritated that he was even irritated, the Iron Bull headed for a tent of his own, barely overhearing Blackwall's embarrassed cough. As he let the tent flap swing shut behind him, he heard Cole say, "Why aren't they going together?" and Blackwall reply, "Hush, that's not our business."

  
*  


When Bull crawled out of the tent into the watery sunlight and crisp chill of early morning, irritably disentangling the flap from his horns and dragging his axe awkwardly out after him, Leo and the others were already up, Cole staring into space, the Inquisitor engaging in a quiet, apologetic conversation with Blackwall. Both of them looked up when they saw Bull approaching, and the conversation died swiftly. Blackwall clapped Leo on the shoulder. "We're with you, Inquisitor," was all he said, his thoughts locked away behind his beard.  
  
"Thank you," Leo said quietly, his face expressionless. He turned to face the three of them, Inquisitor Face back up. "We're here for a particular target that's well beyond the capabilities of Cullen's forces," he told them. "It's harassing our caravans and interfering with trade in the region. The Crossroads are getting desperate. So far it's killed three of our men. I can handle the ranged combat, but I need you three on the ground, keeping it busy."  
  
"What exactly are we after, Boss?" Bull hefted his axe to one shoulder, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the Inquisitor. "You planning on telling us anytime soon?"  
  
Leo paused, watching him carefully, and opened his mouth to reply.  
  
An eerie screech suddenly cut through the distant canyon, drowning out his words. The sound echoed, high and mighty, savage and uncontrollable, rolling through the morning air and fading swiftly into the distance.  
  
Leo closed his mouth, and glanced toward the canyon entrance.  
  
Bull turned his face skyward, sucking in a breath. _You've gotta be shitting me._  
  
Leo was already headed for the canyon. "This way," he said, drawing his staff and striding away.  
  
The open space before them was still tinged pink and gold with the early morning light, but any beauty the canyon might once have had was marred by wide swathes of char that streaked the landscape, the grass scattered with blackened corpses.  
  
A second screech split the air, and then the dragon appeared in the sky before them, its shadow rising against the morning sky like a spreading stain, its massive wings blotting out the sun itself.  
  
In that moment, the world seemed to melt completely away from him, and Bull's mouth opened in wonder at the creature's savage glory.  
  
"Taarsidath-an halsaam," Iron Bull choked, the words almost strangled in his joy. _Oh, this is a good,_ good _day._  
  
"Come on," Leo called, and his staff rose, and he turned to lead them into battle against one of the last High Dragons in Thedas.  
  
For an instant, time seemed to freeze for Bull, as he watched the Inquisitor whirl into his first graceful swing of the staff, his freckled face hard and focused, red hair flying in the morning light, his white coat flashing around him. For just that moment, Bull frowned slightly, an unfamiliar jolt stabbing at his gut as his eye traced Leo's precise, practiced movements.  
  
_What...?_  
  
The next moment, the dragon's screech of challenge had shattered the air once more, and then he was charging at the Inquisitor's side, roaring like a rabid bear, privately praying to whoever would listen that his raging erection wouldn't get in the way of his footwork.

  
*  


Days later, the tavern of Skyhold was still buzzing with excitement over the dragonslaying, and Leo had to fight through a massive crowd of people to get to the bar, smiling weakly at what seemed like dozens of congratulations, all blurring together into a sea of raucous noise.  
  
But when he got to the bar, navigating through the crowd by the shape of Bull's horns rising a foot over everyone else's heads, there was, miraculously, a seat waiting for him. "Inquisitor!" The Qunari was roaring drunk, laughing and waving him over. "Come have a drink!"  
  
Leo tried to shake strings of advice on Orlesian etiquette from his addled brain, wishing that Josephine had not pounced on him the moment they'd returned, wishing the ride had been longer, wishing he'd had more time. He sighed, still trying to figure out what he was going to say, trying to find the words that had been escaping him for weeks. _I have to say it. I_ have _to say it._  
  
But Bull was already filling a tankard in front of him as he slid quietly onto the stool, and Leo smiled in spite of himself at the drunken grin plastered across the Qunari's scarred face. "To killing a High Dragon, like warriors of legend," Bull roared, shoving the mug toward him, sending liquor splashing enthusiastically over its rim to splatter across the bar.  
  
Leo wrapped his slender fingers around it, glancing at Bull. _Say it, curse you. Fucking say it!_ "What exactly am I supposed to be drinking?"  
  
"Maraas-lok," said Bull, waving a hand at the tankard, his grin widening.  
  
_You challenged a dragon for this man, just because you knew it would make him happy, and you can't even tell him why?_ Leo's jaw tightened, and he stared down at his mug, barely seeing the blackened liquid that filled it. "What does that mean?"  
  
The Iron Bull chuckled, slapping Leo on the back hard enough to make him stagger. "It means _drink!_ "  
  
Leo smiled weakly, trying to hide the despair that was rising in his throat. _Say it,_ he pleaded with himself, but he already knew that the words wouldn't come.  
  
Instead, he drank, and immediately choked, coughing and wheezing, clutching at the bar. He felt as if he'd just poured raw fire down his throat, and he could feel it burning, all the way down, filling his belly with red-hot coals, as if he'd drawn a glyph of fire in his own gut. "Sweet Andraste," he choked.  
  
Bull, watching him, laughed, a massive, roaring sound that boomed through the tavern, and even as Leo could feel the liquor's fire beginning to make the world blur, he glanced nervously around himself, trying to shrink down away from the curious eyes of the men and women that filled the building.  
  
"I know, right?" The Qunari grinned at him. "Put some _chest_ on your chest."  
  
Leo sipped carefully at his tankard, grimacing at the taste, but his eyes were on Bull's face.  
  
_Just for tonight, just for one more night, maybe I can... pretend that everything's fine._  
  
The Qunari's eye had unfocused, and he stared dreamily over the bar. "That sound it made when we killed it, that _roar_. What I wouldn't give to be able to roar like that." He smiled, a distant look in his eye. "And the way it spat fire... the way the ground _shook_ when it landed." He took a long pull from his tankard, sighing happily. "Taarsidath-an halsaam." Grinning, the Bull reached over and filled Leo's cup back up to the brim with his hell-water.  
  
"That thing you just said." Leo's voice was quiet, and he could already feel gravity beginning to turn in interesting new ways. _Dammit, Bull, did you forget how little it takes to get me drunk?_ "You shouted it during the fight, too. What does it mean?"  
  
"Oh, Taarsidath-an halsaam?" Bull's eye roamed over Leo's face, and a kind of focused smile spread across his lips. "Closest translation would be... 'I will bring myself sexual pleasure later, while thinking about this with great respect.' " His gaze drifted dreamily sideways, his lips curling into amused self-satisfaction.  
  
Leo swallowed at the mental image, aware of the flush rising in his cheeks. "You were shouting _that_ while it was breathing fire at us."  
  
Bull met his gaze, grinning. "I know, right? _Mmh._ " His one good eye unfocused in remembered pleasure.  
  
_And I kept the tooth, but why bother? Stupid. Sentimental bullshit._  
  
_Just like going to see a healer, thank you, see you next week._  
  
Leo emptied his mug in one long pull, waves of acid rolling down his throat, sending him into another coughing fit.  
  
Bull chuckled. "The second one's easier, right? Most of the nerves in your throat are dead after the first one." He sighed happily, his words beginning to slur together. "Atashi," he murmured, reverently. "That's our word for them, you know. 'The Glorious Ones.' Ataaaaaaasheeeee...."  
  
Leo pressed a hand against his head, trying to keep it upright, trying to find something to focus on. "Why..." he swallowed, trying to remember how to speak. "Why do you think the Qunari... think of dragons that way?"  
  
"Well--" The Iron Bull lifted his hands before him, trying to focus his gaze on them. "You know how we have horns? We kind of look more--dragony--than most people." He paused, his grin widening. "Maybe it's that. But a few of the Ben-hassrath had this old theory. See, the Tamassrans control who we mate with, like you'd breed a, a draft horse, or a cow or something."  
  
Leo's jaw tightened, and his gaze fell once more to the cup in his hands. He stared down at it, watching his hands shake and his knuckles turn white as his fingers clamped around the dented tin. He could feel magic rising in his chest, responding to his rage. He suppressed it, savagely, snarling under his breath.  
  
"So what if..." Bull hadn't noticed, and now he chuckled, trying to shape the thought in his hands. "What if they mixed in some dragon, a long time ago? Maybe, maybe drinking the blood, or..." He turned to grin affectionately at Leo. "...magic." His grin widened. "I don't know. But something in that dragon we killed... spoke to me."  
  
_Say it,_ Leo pleaded to himself. "Now I'm worried I killed one of your gods, or something," the young man muttered, his lips twisting as he forced a laugh.  
  
Bull laughed. "Dragons are the embodiment of raw power..." His eye unfocused again, his face growing dreamy once more. "But it's all uncontrolled, savage." His attention slid back to Leo, and he smirked, reaching for the pitcher. "So, they need to be destroyed," he said cheerfully, pouring another round. "Taming the wild." He met Leo's gaze. "Order out of chaos." There was a sudden intensity in Bull's face, a kind of focus that made the breath catch in Leo's throat.  
  
_(Bull's eye, fixed on his face, pinning him to the bed. The gag between his teeth and the ropes around his wrists. That black gaze, focused and intent, boring straight into his throat and snatching his words away more surely than any gag.)_  
  
Slowly, the big man pushed Leo's tankard closer. "Have another drink."  
  
Leo had to fight to tear his eyes away from Bull's face. Without pausing to think about it, he lifted his mug and knocked the entire thing back, trying not to taste it, trying not to let Bull see the pain behind his eyes.  
  
Bull let out a roar of laughter, coughing after his own shot. "Nice!" He lifted his mug. "To dragons!"  
  
"To the Iron Bull," Leo returned, his brow furrowing in sorrow. _Andraste, I'm such a fucking coward._  
  
"And to his ass-kicking Inquisitor," Bull roared, slapping Leo on the back, oblivious to the young man's mood. "Hey," he said, his voice suddenly quieter, huskier, slurring with the effects of the alcohol. "Hey, Kadan, listen."  
  
Leo blinked up at him, trying to focus his eyes on Bull's face. _Kadan?_  
  
"Listen," Bull said, grabbing his shoulder with a kind of drunken earnestness. "I always want to say this, and I never can when we're off saving the world."  
  
Leo's chest froze. He swallowed, feeling his heart begin to pound.  
  
The Qunari smiled affectionately down at him. "You've got a fantastic ass," he said, his voice full of reverence.  
  
Leo stared up at him for a moment, feeling his heart shatter.  
  
Finally, he forced an amused smile onto his face, and two decades of political training rose up in his throat and he said what the Iron Bull, who did not have sex for love, wanted to hear.  
  
"Aawww."  
  
Bile rose after it, and Leo wished with everything he had that he was gagged again, that it hadn't emerged from his lips.  
  
Chuckling, the Iron Bull slung his arm around Leo's shoulder, and the young man looked away, unable to conceal the pain that he knew filled his face, praying to whoever was listening that Bull wouldn't see it.


	5. Chapter 5

**_IV_ **

Leo was awakened slowly, heat on his face and sunlight streaming into his eyes. Wincing, he lifted a hand to his face. He felt as though he'd eaten a barrel of rocks, and that some of them had decided to stay and hold a party inside of his skull.  
  
The Iron Bull's arm lay across his ribs, pinning him to the bed with the sheer weight of the bicep, and Leo sighed, closing his eyes again and trying to remember the previous night.  
  
_(Bull's voice, low and reverent, 'Kadan, always wanted to tell you this, fantastic ass.'_  
  
_Fire in his belly, and the look of focus on the Qunari's face, suddenly fixed and purposeful despite the liquor. Bull's hand on his arm, guiding him through the dwindling tavern crowds to his rooms at the back of the building. His own strangled silence, unable to say it, unable to resist or walk away. Bull's arms, wrapped around him, the man's lips rough on his throat, urgent, joyous._  
_Bull's weight pinning him to the narrow tavern bed, holding him down, his hands sliding into his trousers. Katoh on his lips, but he couldn't let it stop. The sweat between them, the Qunari's panting, his own quiet cries, the blurring of the world and the whirling of gravity, the release as acute as a sword wound._  
_Afterwards, the whisper, 'Bull,' then the Iron Bull's arms drawing him close, wrapping him up, and the Qunari's contented sigh as he fell asleep, his stomach and cock warm and soft against Leo's back.)_  
  
A tiny sigh escaped Leo's lips, and he massaged his temples. _Fantastic. Excellent work, Inquisitor Trevelyan._  
  
_So much for trying to make a change._  
  
Trying not to grunt with the effort, Leo lifted the Bull's arm from his body and let it slide bonelessly to the sheets beside him. Carefully, he sat up, cringing when a powerful snore erupted from his lover's mouth. But the Bull was out cold, dead to the world, even with late morning sunlight slanting across his face.  
  
For a moment, Leo just watched him, watched the slow rise and fall of Bull's chest, traced the shape of his hips beneath the sheets, the parting of his rough lips, the curve of his horns, the curl of his powerful fingers.  
  
Quietly, swallowing a lump in his throat, Leo gathered his clothing, dressed, and slipped out, shutting the door on Bull's steady snores.

  
*  


When the Iron Bull came awake, yawning mightily and rubbing lazily at the ache in his head, the kind of hangover that came from a night well spent, the sunlight spreading across the floor of his room was already at the high angle of early afternoon.  
  
He sat up, rolling his shoulders and scratching an itch along his gut, then paused.  
  
Leo was already gone. Bull frowned slightly.  
  
Why did that bother him?  
  
Rubbing at his skull and reaching for a pitcher of water beside his bed, Bull drank deeply, turning over the previous night's events in his mind.  
  
_(He had been thinking of dragons and laughing with his Inquisitor when he'd realized that he'd begun to think of Leo as_ his _Inquisitor, and he'd looked down at the young man and felt something tighten in his chest._  
_He'd remembered how Leo had looked, wreathed in ice and lightning and dragonfire, staring up at the beast without fear as it screamed. His body had instantly responded, and Leo's eyes had been on him, watching him, burning into his skin._  
_All of the liquor sloshing through his skull had scattered his thoughts, and he couldn't think of the words he wanted to say, but his hands had known what to do. He'd taken Leo by the arm, led him back to his room, shut the door, found Leo's lips in the dark._  
_Leo's fingers, digging into his back, the mage's quiet cries, why is he always so quiet? Both of them breathing heavily, Leo panting against him, and their release, hitting him like an avalanche, the human's little body trembling against his chest._  
_'Bull,' that whisper again. Why does he always do that after I finish?)_  
  
A deep, satisfied sigh rose and fell in the Iron Bull's frame as he set the pitcher aside, and he headed for his toilet to take a piss, rolling his shoulders and stretching. _Good to see him cut loose a little bit._  
  
A dreamy grin on his face, Bull rested his horns against the wall above the pot as he relieved himself, running the dragon fight over in his mind again. He could still feel the roar vibrating in his bones, the wet crunch of his axe biting into bone and scale and blood, still feel the frigid crackle of Leo's magic rolling through the air, and the acid stench of the mage's lightning. His teeth clenched in a savage grin.  
  
Abruptly, Bull lifted his head, frowning. He suddenly wondered why Leo had chosen that particular time to go after the dragon. He'd said the thing had been harassing trade caravans, but barely any trade went through that canyon, and the dragon had seemed content to stay there, snacking on the odd ram that wandered into its territory. So why...?  
  
Then, as he was pulling on his trousers and buckling his harness, another thought struck him. "Ah, shit," he grunted, as he realized that somewhere in the haze that was last night, somewhere between drinks and sex, he'd called Leo _Kadan._  
  
_Why did I say that? Shit, that'll complicate things. Does he know what it means?_ Bull grimaced. _Damn. Why_ did _I call him that?_  
  
Well, no use worrying about it now. Bull sighed and reached down to grab his boots. For a moment, his jaw tightened, and he felt a snarl of frustration rumble up in his throat as he rested his head in his hand. _Damn it all to fuck. Shit was never this complicated in Par Vollen._  
  
His chest tightened at the thought.

  
*  


"Inquisitor?"  
  
Leo looked up from his desk, a scowl still on his face as he tossed another report onto his stack. He blinked owlishly, suddenly aware that the afternoon was gone, that he was straining to see in the dying light of day. How long had he been working?  
  
"Er--Inquisitor?" There was a messenger standing before his desk. How long had he been there--waiting? Staring at him?  
  
"Yes?" The word came out as a snap.  
  
The man cringed slightly, and Leo sighed. "Yes," he said again, softening his voice, "what is it?"  
  
"The, uh, the item you ordered, Your Worship."  
  
He hefted a wooden box before him, and Leo froze. "Ah--thank you," he said, rising and moving to claim it. His fingers curled around the container. It was heavier than he'd expected. "Please pass on my thanks to our requisition officers," he added, his voice tired, almost hoarse.  
  
"At once, Inquisitor," the messenger said, bowing swiftly and then retreating, his face full of unasked questions. Softly, the door shut behind him, and Leo was alone again.  
  
The Inquisitor sighed, returning to his chair and flopping down into it, cradling the package in his lap. He slid his palms over the box's surface, briefly reached for the clasp, then stopped.  
  
_("As casual as you want it to be..."_  
_"Someone you care about..."_  
_"Like you'd breed dogs or horses..."_  
_"Always want to tell you this, never can..."_  
_"Qunari don't have sex for love..."_  
_"Hey, Kadan, listen...")_  
  
Slowly, he lifted the box to his desk's surface and pushed it aside. His shoulders had begun to shake, and silently, Leo rested his elbows atop the pile of reports, burying his face in his hands.  
  
For a long time, he simply stared at the box from between his fingers, eyes unfocused. Maybe, if he looked hard enough at it, it would tell him what to do.  
  
But it only sat quietly before him, offering no answers.  
  
Abruptly, Leo stood. Lifting the box in shaking fingers, he strode from the room.

  
*  


_(That look of focused iron on Leo's face as he swung the staff, each movement practiced, precise. The dragon rising above him, lightning crackling over its scales, its anguished keening as its wings spread, its neck stretching skyward in agony, its eyes rolling back in its head._  
_The Inquisitor's staff, falling to earth like a thunderbolt as it unleashed one last barrage of energy, and Leo's orange hair briefly lifting around his face with the force of it. Spikes of ice piercing the dragon's throat with a bloody crunch, a crackle of frost spreading over its body, and the slow, graceful, screaming collapse of the creature to the earth._  
_A strangled grunt on Bull's lips: 'Taarsidath-an halsaam!')_  
  
"Bull?"  
  
The Iron Bull blinked, and looked up to find his Inquisitor standing before him, a box of dark wood tucked under one arm. Adrenaline shot through his veins. Leo looked tired, but more than that, he looked worried--his orange hair tousled, that familiar furrow in his brow.  
  
_Taarsidath-an halsaam._  
  
"What can I do for you, Boss?" Bull set his tankard aside.  
  
"I have something for you," Leo said quietly. Bull glanced at the box, barely seeing it, the adrenaline in his veins beginning to send a flood of warmth through his body and groin as his eye traced the Inquisitor's shape.  
  
"Yeah?" Standing, Bull grinned, his voice low and almost harsh. "Well, I think I've got something for you, too. Come on," he muttered, "I'll go first."  
  
He was rewarded by the tiny flush that rose in Leo's cheeks.  
  
One hand on the Inquisitor's shoulder, Bull led the young man up to the top level of the tavern. Together, they slipped into one of the derelict rooms of the inn, a distant corner of the keep atop the walls, far from the muffled sounds of the bar.  
  
"Bull," Leo murmured, turning, box in hand. "Hold on--"  
  
"Not now," Bull growled. He pried the package from Leo's fingers and let it fall to the floor, sliding it under the bed with one foot as he pulled the young man close. "It can wait."  
  
A growl of pleasure in his throat, he wrapped his arms around Leo's slender frame and kissed him, curling his fingers into the young man's hair. A shiver ran down the mage's spine, and Bull felt Leo's thin fingers slide across his hips. Suddenly, the young man's grip tightened, his hands shooting up to Bull's shoulder blades, his fingers digging into Bull's back as the Qunari's tongue slipped between his lips. Leo let out a shuddering breath against Bull's mouth, beginning to shake.  
  
"Bull," he whispered into the Iron Bull's embrace, a note of desperation in his voice, "gag me-- _please._ "  
  
_Like he doesn't want to think anymore, like he needs to be_ forced _not to._ The realization sent a shuddering wave of adrenaline through Bull's body. "Can do," growled the Qunari.  
  
Before Leo could react, Bull had turned him roughly, forced his face and chest against the door, yanked his arms over his head. Leo cried out, softly, his breaths coming faster now, his eyes tightly closed, cheek pressed against the wood.  
  
Pinning Leo's arms in place with one hand, the Iron Bull grabbed a sheet from where it was draped over a nearby chair, tearing a rough strip from it between his teeth. With easy, practiced motions, he looped it around Leo's mouth and yanked it tight, tying off the knot even as his lips found Leo's throat, mouthing hungrily at freckled skin, the mage's groans like lightning against his lips.  
  
Bull wrapped his hand around Leo's ass, squeezing roughly, grinning when the mage whimpered beneath his touch. He stepped closer, pressing his chest against Leo's back, leaning down to run his teeth along the edge of Leo's ear, nosing the line of the gag, humming in pleasure. Leo's breaths began to quicken, and Bull could feel his jaw tighten around the cloth.  
  
Bull's hand shifted, sliding forward, and began to undo the clasps of Leo's tunic. Tiny strands of lightning began to curl around his fingers, humming from the clasps, dancing over Leo's ear and crackling between Bull's seeking lips. He chuckled, softly, then shifted his mouth and bit down on the side of Leo's throat.  
  
The mage cried out, a fresh wave of electricity jumping between them, arcing violently past Bull's face to leave a savage black streak in the door beside Leo's cheek.  
  
"You're not gonna scare me off, Leo," the Qunari whispered, his voice low, rough, intense. "Don't think for a second that that shit will stop me."  
  
Leo had begun to pant, his fingernails digging into the door's surface as Bull's grip on his wrists tightened.  
  
"I'm going to strip you, and fuck you," Bull breathed, his teeth curling once more around Leo's ear. "Sound good?" Leo whimpered out a strangled, wordless gasp of assent, his stomach rippling beneath Bull's fingers as the Qunari ripped open his tunic.  
  
His hands sought Leo's skin like an addict reaching for a bottle, his callused fingertips running roughly over the mage's abdomen, then his collar, then his nipples, savoring the gentle sting of electricity that crackled over their sweat, slick and hot. His fingers found Leo's nipples and tightened, drawing a muffled cry from the mage, the human's body seizing beneath his grip. "Mine," Bull growled, pressing his growing erection against the seat of Leo's trousers.  
  
"Nhh." Leo's arms were straining against the door now, a strangled whimper muffled by the gag.  
  
The Qunari's hand slid downward, sliding underneath his prisoner's belt, yanking the buckle open, tearing it free. He tossed it aside, and Leo cried out again, trembling against the door. Bull dug his fingers into the back of Leo's shirt, dragging it up and over the human's shoulders, hauling it free of his pinned hands, bending the mage forward, running his lips hot and harsh over the freckles that covered Leo's back.  
  
Slowly, savoring the sound of Leo's heavy breathing, the Iron Bull reached into his pocket and pulled out the bundle of rope. When he looped the first coil around Leo's left wrist, tightening it with agonizing slowness, the mage sucked in a shuddering breath, and a fresh wave of lightning rolled over Bull's chest.  
  
"I've got you," the Qunari murmured, and pulled Leo away from the door, forcing him toward the bed, heedless of the mage's struggles against him even as they sent waves of electric pleasure smashing through his body.  
  
Leo moaned, deep in his throat, then shuddered as his shins hit the mattress. Bull snarled, pressing him forward, knocking his resisting, struggling legs from beneath him with one sweeping foot, pinning him face down against the sheets.  
  
He was groaning into the gag now, words cut off by the cloth between his teeth, muffled against the silks. _Please,_ Bull thought he heard, the word broken, almost a sob. _Please._  
  
Bull reached forward, yanking Leo's straining arms out above him, stretching his arms between the bedposts. The mage's fingers tightened, wrapping helplessly around the ropes, and he whimpered quietly into the sheets.  
  
Trembling, the young man tried to curl his legs underneath him, and Bull laughed softly, seizing him by the ankles and holding him still. "You know better," he growled, running one hand up Leo's thigh, and the mage sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body trembling. "Can't stop me like that."  
  
The Iron Bull advanced, his hand climbing higher, sliding up and wrapping itself around Leo's exposed ass. Then, roughly, he dug his fingers into Leo's waistline and began to drag his trousers away, pinning Leo's feet down with a knee and devoting both hands to the pleasurable task.  
  
Leo's breathing was harsh and heavy now, his arms and shoulders straining against the ropes.  
  
Bull chuckled softly, letting Leo's trousers crumple to the floor, climbing atop his prisoner's body, grinding himself against Leo's ass. He leaned forward, planting his palms in the sheets on either side of Leo's ribs, letting his breath fall hot and harsh on Leo's throat.  
  
"You can't fight it," he whispered. "You don't _need_ to fight it. I've got you." And Leo was suddenly whimpering again, his body going limp beneath Bull's hands as the mage surrendered. Bull felt a joyous shudder run down his spine, and he had to bite back a groan of sheer ecstasy at the feeling, at the sudden knowledge that Leo was _his,_ had surrendered to _him_.  
  
Deliberately taking his time, his erection hot and tight against Leo's bare ass, Bull sat back and began to unbuckle his harness, the mage's trembling beneath him sending shudders of ecstasy through his thighs and groin. The harness hit the floor with a quiet thud, and Bull moved on to his trousers, aware that Leo knew what he was doing, savoring the mage's growing anticipation, teasing him with the rocking of his hips.  
  
He came free at last, and abruptly Leo's skin was hot against his thighs, sweat slick between them. The mage inhaled sharply, more electricity crackling over his skin as his fingers dug into the ropes that bound him.  
  
"Remember to relax," Bull murmured, his own breaths coming faster, harsher, even as he teased Leo's buttocks apart with his probing fingers. The young man uttered a strangled cry, biting down on the gag, and Bull laughed quietly, pushing harder.  
  
Then, with careful, deliberate precision, Bull let his hands slide forward. One rose to Leo's left nipple, and he gently began to tease it with his fingertips. The other traveled downward, and wrapped itself around Leo's cock.  
  
The young man's cry was louder this time, full of shock, his spine arcing beneath Bull's touch. The Qunari growled, low in his throat, and ran a single caressing fingertip up Leo's shaft, following the mage's bucking movements, savoring the gathering crackle of stinging electricity that was building swiftly against his skin. The arcs were coming faster and closer together now, building in intensity.  
  
Abruptly, Bull tightened his grip on Leo's cock, and the mage choked out a harsh whimper against the sheets, bucking beneath his hands, and Bull took in a deep, shuddering breath, pulling his arms tighter around Leo's torso, holding the young man in place as he reached for the oil. One finger, two--Leo was panting now, hips rolling against his hand, helpless tremors running down his spine as the Bull put everything he now knew about this little human's body to use.  
  
Gently, his erection growing almost painful with every passing moment, Bull forced his knees between Leo's legs, spreading them, lifting the young mage bodily toward his cock, pulling his arms taught against the ropes. He began to slide into Leo's body, each thrust powerful, deliberate, savoring every tiny, muffled gasp, every whimper, every wave of pleasure that rolled through them both.  
  
He began to increase his tempo, panting like an animal, one hand still on Leo's cock, the other pinning his lover against him. Leo was moaning with every thrust now, whimpering as Bull took him and straining against the creaking bedposts that held his wrists, their joined ecstasy rising higher than it ever had before.  
  
Bull felt an animal snarl erupt from his lips, heard Leo cry out, the mage's back seizing against his chest, and his arm wrapped tightly around Leo's torso, holding him fast, yanking him close. His teeth found Leo's neck and he bit down hard, his scarred cheek tight against Leo's throat, the mage's gasping vibrating against his tongue. The climax hit them both simultaneously, their bodies arcing as one, Leo's cry strangled as it pierced Bull's choking grunt of ecstasy. A massive wave of electric adrenaline rolled through Bull's entire body, his thighs, his groin, his stomach, his arms as they wrapped around Leo's seizing torso.  
  
Finally, panting, he collapsed to his elbows, pressing his face against Leo's shoulderblades, trying to remember how to breathe.  
  
Beneath his chest, Leo's body had gone limp, trembling. For a long moment, Bull lay atop him, breathing heavily into Leo's spine, his scarred lips at rest against the freckles and sweat on his Inquisitor's shoulders, unwilling to leave his lover's body.  
  
After a long moment, he reached forward and tugged the gag free. Beneath him, Leo whimpered, a little shuddering gasp crawling out of his lips.  
  
"Bull," Leo whispered, breathless, his voice almost hoarse. "Oh, sweet Maker, Bull."  
  
The Iron Bull chuckled softly, the sound rough against Leo's skin.  
  
"Sweet Maker, Bull," the mage whispered again.  
  
Slowly, reluctantly, the Qunari rolled aside, releasing him. Gently, his fingers trailing up Leo's spine, he reached forward to loosen the knots that bound the young man's wrists.  
  
Leo turned in place, pressing his back against Bull's chest, curling his arms up before him just as he had on their first night together. "Bull," he whispered, a third time, his entire body trembling, little aftershocks of lightning shooting in tiny bursts over his shoulders.  
  
Beneath them, the whole bed was smoldering, and lines of char marked the jagged paths taken by arcing electricity.  
  
Bull sighed contentedly, wrapping his arm around Leo's chest, catching one of Leo's hands and drawing the human close. Gently, he leaned forward, pressing his lips into the young man's orange hair. Leo shivered, fitting himself against Bull's body.  
  
"There we go," Bull murmured softly, a deep calm filling him. "No Inquisition. No war." _And no Qun, and no Ben-Hassrath, and no orders from Par Vollen._ The thought was a guilty one, but not even that could break the peace that rolled through Bull's body in waves. "Nothing outside this room."  
  
Leo's breathing had begun to calm, his shaking beginning to ease. Bull watched as he closed his eyes, the tension easing out of his face. For the first time since they'd met, the young man seemed at peace. "Just you and me," Bull whispered, and the words were a kind of prayer.  
  
Leo's fingers curled around Bull's hand, and one last spark of lightning jumped between them.  
  
For a long moment, they simply lay together, Leo tucked safely into the Qunari's arms, their breathing slowly synchronizing.  
  
Finally, Leo sighed, sitting up. His arms were trembling, not with spent adrenaline, but with exhaustion. He winced, running a hand along the back of one thigh. Bull chuckled. "If you're sore in the morning, I can show you some stretches that'll take care of that," he murmured lazily, amused.  
  
Leo snorted, shaking his head. "Ass." Slowly, casting around in the semi-dark of the derelict room, he located his clothing. Briefly, as he pulled on his trousers, he shot a glance at Bull over one shoulder, and the Qunari was suddenly struck by how peaceful he looked, how centered he seemed. He'd never seen that look on the young man's face before.  
  
Leo sat down again, his back to Bull, buckling his tunic. "For a minute there I thought I was going to lose another shirt," he muttered, but Bull could see the grin tickling at the corners of his lips.  
  
"I can still fix that," he growled, running a rough fingertip down Leo's spine, eliciting a quiet, strangled noise from the young man's throat. The mage shot a mock glare at him over his shoulder, and Bull chuckled smugly, lounging back on the bed.  
  
As Leo was pulling on his boots, the Qunari blinked, suddenly remembering the box that Leo had brought upstairs with them. "Oh, hey. What did you want to talk about?"  
  
Leo froze. The furrow reappeared in his brow, and he swallowed. He turned, opening his mouth to reply.  
  
Abruptly, voices on the battlements outside halted him, and Bull watched him cringe, watched him shrink into himself, and frowned slightly, but he had no time to ask the question on his lips. "--sure I heard someone say he was in here--" The door burst open without a knock, late afternoon sunlight suddenly pouring across the floor, and then Cullen stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand, and Bull could see Leo's fingers spasm like claws against the bedsheets.  
  
"Sorry to disturb your rest, Inquisitor, but our fortif--Oh, sweet Maker!" He stumbled backward in shock at the sight of Bull's lounging, unabashed nudity, swiftly lifting the clipboard to shield his eyes.  
  
Bull grinned. "Hey, Cullen. How's it going?"  
  
Leo, paralyzed, uttered a wordless, strangled sound of horror in the back of his throat.  
  
Then Josephine appeared, following curiously after Cullen. "Well? Is the Inquisitor awake? I thought perhaps we--" Her eyes fell on Bull, and she spasmed backward, her sentence ending in an undignified sputter. Leo shrank in on himself, resting his forehead in one palm, resignation drawn across his features.  
  
"I am--so--sorry," Cullen was choking, trying desperately not to look into the room, covering his eyes with both hands.  
  
"I cannot feel my legs," said Josephine breathlessly, unable to tear her gaze away from Bull's body.  
  
"Is something the matter--ah!" Cassandra, shouldering past them, froze mid-step, her own eyes widening in shock, a gauntleted hand shooting up before her as if she could shield herself from the sight of Bull's body.  
  
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Bull snapped, shaking his head in disbelief. "Anybody else out there? Come on in, let's make it a party!"  
  
"Do you see this?" Cassandra turned in disbelief to Cullen, gesturing eloquently at the Qunari.  
  
_"No."_ Cullen's voice rang with emphatic feeling from behind his clipboard. Cassandra glared at him.  
  
"So--" she turned back to Bull, raising an eyebrow, "I take it--"  
  
"Actually," Bull drawled, tucking an arm behind his head and grinning, _"he's_ the one who's been taking it." He nodded expressively at Leo, who groaned, burying his face in both hands, his shoulders shaking with mirth. A muffled snort escaped Cullen's lips.  
  
Her lips thinning, Cassandra glanced from Leo to Bull and back again. "I... apologize for interrupting what I assume was a... momentary diversion?" The sentence was pointed, directed at Leo, and suddenly Bull felt the mage tense, saw his shoulders contract slightly, saw a tremor of anger run down the young man's spine.  
  
"Nothing wrong with a bit of fun," Cullen was muttering, smirking.  
  
"Who wouldn't be a little curious?" Josephine was still staring at Bull, utterly transfixed, eyes wide. Cassandra turned to stare at her in disbelief.  
  
Leo got slowly to his feet, and suddenly all eyes were on him. Bull, watching him, saw again that look of almost anger--that _defiance_ , as if he was daring someone to argue with him. His Inquisitor Face, iron behind his eyes, just as surely as if he were allocating troops or negotiating a treaty.  
  
"This--was more than just a momentary diversion," he said quietly. There was something in his voice, something rough and almost fearful under the words. Slowly, the mage crossed his arms before him, staring at Cassandra, a challenge on his face. "Bull and I intend to continue. Is that a problem?"  
  
Something crystalized inside of Bull, tightening in his chest.  
  
He glanced at Cassandra, who looked almost taken aback. "A surprise, I'll admit," she finally said, one eyebrow raised. "But--not a problem."  
  
Cullen grabbed her by the arm, backing hurriedly away. "We'll leave you be."  
  
"Yes," Josephine said loudly, abruptly shaking herself free of her trance. "Do enjoy yourselves." Her eyes twinkled as they dragged Cassandra bodily from the room, shutting the door behind them.  
  
Leo sat down again, sighing heavily. His hands fell into his lap; Bull could suddenly see that they were shaking.  
  
He sat up, leaning toward the young man. "You okay, Boss?"  
  
Leo turned, met his gaze. He looked tired, a weariness behind his eyes, but he was smiling softly, his gaze fixed on Bull's face. "No," he said, his lips curling. "I haven't said katoh, and here you've stopped anyway."  
  
Bull snorted, shaking his head and grinning.  
  
Leo bent forward, finally retrieving the box from where Bull had shoved it under the bed. "But since we have a moment--"  
  
Bull frowned, curiously. "What's that?"  
  
With shaking fingers, inhaling slowly as if to steel himself, Leo lifted the dark wood of the box's lid, withdrawing its contents and setting it aside. Bull's eye widened, ever so slightly, when he saw what it was that the young man cradled between trembling palms.  
  
"A dragon's tooth," Leo whispered, his voice hoarse, "split in two. So--so no matter how far apart life takes us, we're always together." He sucked in a breath, his teeth closing on the words, and Bull watched him shrink away, unable to look at him, his entire body tensing as he waited for Bull's reaction.  
  
_Sweet fuck. He remembered that? It's been months._  
  
For a long moment, Bull could only stare at Leo, who avoided his gaze, that worried furrow deepening between his brows. Suddenly, he realized:  
  
This _is why he went after that dragon. The whole time he was spinning some bullshit story about trade caravans--_  
  
And for the first time since he'd watched the dreadnought go down off the Storm Coast, the Iron Bull was suddenly truly glad that he was quit of the Qun.  
  
Gently, his chest tightening as he leaned closer, Bull slid a gentle hand beneath Leo's chin, forcing his eyes up, catching his gaze. "It's not often someone surprises me, Kadan," he whispered, his voice rough.  
  
Leo swallowed, his eyes wide. "You called me that last night," he murmured, clutching at the tooth's twin halves in his lap. "What does it mean?"  
  
"Kadan," Bull repeated softly, drawing Leo close. "My heart."  
  
A kind of joyous relief tightened between the young man's eyes, and he set the tooth aside, his fingers finding Bull's wrists, curling carefully around them. "Kadan," he breathed, turning the word over on his tongue. Tears sprang into the mage's eyes, and he reached up a hand to clear them, laughing helplessly, and suddenly Bull realized that every time the human had whispered his name after sex, he'd been searching for that word, trying desperately to say it but unable to find a way.  
  
He pulled Leo close and kissed him, and the Inquisitor leaned into him, surrendering. Together, they fell back into the bed, Leo's lips still forming the word.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

_**V** _

Halamshiral made the Iron Bull itch.

He found himself, without meaning to, laying the groundwork in his mind for the report he wasn't going to send. Choosing words and settling on descriptors that wouldn't find their way back to Par Vollen. Deciding which codes to use, what to mention, what not to bother with.

He wondered, idly, listening to one more simpering lady make clumsy, giggling insults behind her mask, if that part of his mind would ever stop churning. If he would ever forget the codes and phrases, if there would ever come a day when he stopped thinking in Qunlat. If what that viddathari on the ramparts had shouted-- _ebost issala!_ \--would be the last shred of the language he ever heard another person speak.

Distantly, he was aware of the babbling pile of petticoats at his elbow demanding, _Are you even listening to me, ox?_

"Nah, not really." He pinned her with his eye, letting a frown cross his face. "Should I be?"

She gasped in outrage and flounced off. Bull reached for something that looked almost like a cracker, and scooped it into the cheese dip, his eyes on the Inquisitor.

A dowager had cornered him above the swirling sea of dancers, her hands weaving an intricate pattern in the air between them. _Fuck, he hates it when people talk at him._ Bull felt a rumble rise in his chest, and he nearly took a step forward, nearly left his vantage point to come to the young man's rescue. 

But Leo was nodding politely now, smiling just as warmly as if he meant it sincerely, and he was bowing and excusing himself and vanishing back into the crowds, just as easily as Cole sometimes vanished into the shadowy places of the battlefield, and it struck Bull like a thunderbolt that his Inquisitor had been _born_ for this.

By the time Leo had made it to the hallway where Bull had planted himself, the Inquisitor Face was up in full, seamless as wrought iron, just as opaque as every other fucking mask at this fucking party. 

_That's not a skill he learned after he fell out of the Fade. That's something he learned as a child, from people who should have been teaching him how to be a person._

"Bull," the young man murmured, his eyes sliding over the crowds, his posture perfect, one hand tucked elegantly behind his back. "How are you faring?"

Abruptly, Bull felt a scowl crease his lips, an irrational restlessness, a buzzing irritation, humming in his gut. "You have anything that needs killing? Because these nobles have been messing with me all night," he growled, "and they think I don't know they're doing it. This keeps up, and I'll be wearing one of their skulls as _my_ fancy little mask."

The mage inhaled slowly, and Bull watched his face, watched the iron in his gaze falter, watched a little shred of exhaustion unfocus his green eyes.

Then Leo straightened, and the human's gaze was suddenly fixed on Bull, a flash of intensity furrowing his brow, something new, something that the Qunari hadn't seen before. "Tell me what you see," the Inquisitor murmured, watching him. "Look at this with the eye of a Ben-Hassrath."

And that hit Bull like a knife to the belly.

 _('When they figured out I could hit stuff_ and _lie, that's when they started training me for the Ben-Hassrath.' Warmth in his gut. The Herald, quiet and attentive. Just listening._

_Feeling again, even now, half a lifetime distant, that pride swelling in his chest, a satisfaction that's just his, something he can own, though there are no possessions in the Qun. 'It's like you're a block of marble, and there's a sculptor working on you. One day, the last of the crap gets knocked off, and you can see your real shape. What you're supposed to be. Yeah--that was a good day.'_

_Later, on the battlements: 'Tal-va-fucking--' A snarl, dying strangled on his lips.)_

Bull exhaled, and looked away. "It's a mess," he muttered, his grip on his belt tightening, his jaw clenching. "So much bullshit kicking around in here, it's hard to tell the lies that don't matter from the ones that do." His eye roved over the crowd, avoiding Leo's gaze, and he felt a bubble of restless anger bubbling up in his throat. He forced it back down. _Just do your damn job and quit whining, it's been weeks since the Storm Coast, there's a reason he brought you to this damn peacock carnival, he needs your experience, needs--_

_Needs--_

Abruptly, the Bull paused, blinked. 

And then he was looking at Leo, and the human was still watching him, his face still guarded, but even through the blank shell of the Inquisitor Face, there was a tired smile, a faint echo of relief, at the edges of his eyes.

Bull felt something ease in his throat, a tension he hadn't even realized he was holding on to, and stared down at Leo, nonplussed. _Well, shit._

"We should dance," the redhead murmured.

  


*

  


Hours later, the night air from the gardens seemed to crawl down Leo's throat, thick and cloying, the sweet stench of flowers overpowering on the cool spring breeze. He leaned forward, letting the marble railing take his weight, closing his eyes and trying to let the night air and the droning crickets wash the subtle lash of Morrigan's tongue from his mind.

The marble beneath his feet was smeared with blood, and blood was spattered over the silk of his trousers, streaked across the sash. A fine mist of it dusted the white silk of his gloves, legacy of the harlequin whose life had ended at the tip of his staff blade. He'd been covered in blood even as he'd denounced Florianne. No one had cared.

His lip curled. Perhaps it had even added to the effect.

A towering presence appeared beside him, silver muscle on quiet feet. Leo sighed, closing his eyes, tension easing from his spine. He let his head drop, let it dangle on the end of his neck, felt massive fingers curl around his shoulder.

"Bull," he whispered.

"They ran out of that cheese dip," the Qunari rumbled, amusement a quiet hum in his voice. He settled on the rail beside Leo, one silk-clad elbow draped casually over the marble. "They gave me this look when I asked for more. Assholes." He was watching Leo, an easy smile on his lips, a look of intent focus in his eye.

Leo gazed up at him for a moment, feeling everything soften, feeling something unclench at the bottom of his stomach. The Bull's one good eye was steady and there was a silent question there, and Leo exhaled slowly, just watching him, tracing the lines of his face. Out here in the night, lit only by a lantern or two, the scars carved across Bull's brow seemed deeper, sharper, the black stubble on his jaw raw and rough. Humidity clung to his horns, to the leather edge of his eyepatch. Leo shifted, slipping closer, letting the man's arm slide tighter around him, silk whispering on silk, the sound almost lost in the cricketsong all around them. But even as his shoulder found Bull's, his gaze was drifting back out over the gardens. 

_(Dorian, surrounded by courtiers among the rose-entwined trellises, cavalier as always, but a little clench to his jaw, a little flash of rage in his eyes._  
_Gripping his arm, catching the other mage's gaze, a lifetime of shared suffering between them, every moment in this gilded hell a reminder of what they were born for, what they were raised to do, a language of cutting looks and bladed words that each of them had learned as children at the knees of their fathers._  
_A little hint of relieved understanding in Dorian's eye, and resignation welling up in Leo's throat._  
_Then, the bell, summoning them back to the ballroom.)_

"How you doing, Kadan?" The Bull's hand curled around his shoulders, and the Qunari leaned forward, letting the balcony take his weight and catching Leo's gaze again. Gently, his fingers traced a slow pattern down the back of Leo's neck. _What do you need?_

Leo exhaled slowly, aware of how exhausted he must look. The Bull's arm was a bulwark, a fortress, a bottomless ocean, and he wanted to sink into it until all of Thedas was washed from his shoulders. 

"It's been a long night," he whispered. His voice was hoarse, and he swallowed. "I suppose it's preferable to burning Orlais to the ground."

"Least we got out of it alive," Bull rumbled, grinning. "That's more than some can say."

Below them, in the gardens, was the intricate hedge maze where Leo had poured lightning into the veins of a dozen men not an hour before.

"Cullen's giving orders," the Qunari added, his voice quieting to a murmur. "We're just about good here, Kadan." He lifted a hand, and ran the roughened pad of his thumb down the curve of Leo's jaw. The mage shivered into the touch, his breath quickening.

"You know," Bull murmured, "they're finally playing music with enough of a beat to dance to." A crooked little grin tilted his roughened lips.

"I..." Leo swallowed, looking away, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on the marble of the rail. "I wouldn't... mind some company, actually." He glanced up, a furrow tightening in his brow, and a knot of breathless longing tightening in his gut. 

A lump of fear rose in Leo's throat. "Unless you'd like to return to the party?"

Bull chuckled, his thumb sliding up Leo's jaw to trace the curve of his ear. The breath caught in Leo's chest, and a predatory hum rumbled up out of the Qunari's throat. "Nope," Bull muttered, his grin deepening. "I'm good right here."

Ever so slightly, his grip on Leo tightened. The mage inhaled sharply, his fingers spasming against the marble. "Besides," Bull added, leaning forward, his teeth grazing the edge of Leo's ear, "they ran out of food."

"Nnn," Leo managed, swallowing. He closed his eyes, a shudder running through his entire body, and found his hands lifting, his fingers reaching for the sash across Bull's chest, tightening like claws in the silk. "Bull," he whispered. He couldn't seem to find the words, not now, when it mattered. He never could, not with Bull.

Behind them, the doors to the ballroom were still open, and the sounds of delicate music and bladed laughter still drifted out into the night air.

The hand on his neck tensed, ever so slightly.

_(This same balcony, not half an hour previous. The look on Gaspard's face, on Briala's, even on Celene's, the Empress' perfect mask of civility faltering for just an instant--sheer rage curling at their lips, all three of them, suddenly seeing the corner he'd backed them into, united at last in impotent rage._

_How effortlessly it had flowed from his tongue, the web of lies and blackmail that was suddenly all that held the nation together. Such a simple thing, to find the points of weakness and twist. His mother's biting glare had practically been a tangible thing in that moment, and the words dripping from his tongue could have been his father's._ Had _been his father's._

_He had assumed Bann Trevelyan's skin as if it were a cloak one could don at will.)_

Leo was suddenly so, so tired. He pressed his forehead into the silk of Bull's shirt, his lip curling at the feel of it, slick and foreign, a wall of lies where he should have found the Iron Bull's bare skin. "Bull," he whispered again, his voice lowering into a hiss, red silk beneath his bared teeth, "get me out of here."

"Can do, Kadan," the Iron Bull growled, and then Leo was being turned, that massive silver arm wrapped around his shoulders like steel, and they were gliding down the balcony steps, slipping into the gardens. 

  


*

  


Leo's back crashed into a wall of vines, driven into the greenery by Bull's chest, his thighs, his lips, and he gasped, fingers scrabbling desperately through the leaves, his mouth seeking Bull's. The Qunari's fingers plunged into the trellis on either side of his face, and there were twigs, sharp and brilliant points, digging into Leo's shoulderblades, and the heat of Bull's body tight and relentless against his hips. 

Bull's tunic was falling away now, the sash ripped off and abandoned, Qunari skin sliding against his naked stomach and Qunari teeth on his throat. Leo could hardly see, hardly hear anything but cricketsong interwoven with their mingled panting in the humid air, so thick it was almost tangible.

Bull's fingers found the elegant buttons of his fine silk trousers, fumbling and electric, and Leo felt a strangled whimper escape from his throat, clinging desperately to the trellis. One good _yank_ had the little golden rounds popping free in a ringing patter across the flagstones, and Leo's body seized, and he sucked in a sharp breath of air, a powerful jolt shooting through his groin.

He could hear distant laughter from somewhere beyond the hedge maze, the sound swelling and then fading again. Bull's hands slid into his trousers, and Leo felt reality shatter.

_(The garden of the Trevelyan estate, years ago. His parents' voices, false laughter, insults disguised as smiles, declarations of war interwoven with tinkling, crystalline compliments. His brother's voice, scornful, and an iron hand on his arm, dragging him from the hedgerows. 'You think you can hide in the garden your whole life? You have to learn sometime.'_

_The burn of tears that he'd long ago learned not to shed. The Sword of Mercy on his brother's chest.)_

"Bull," he whispered, his hips rocking helplessly against the man's hand. He buried his face against the man's chest, baring his teeth, running them delicately over silver skin. 

The Iron Bull growled in response, and hoisted Leo bodily off the flagstones, pinning him to the trellis with his body and reaching down to yank the boots from his feet. Leo inhaled sharply, clutching at Bull's neck, aware that his hips were bucking against the man's body, unable to think.

His brain filling with Bull's name, till he can hear nothing else.

( _'Liar. It means_ liar.' _Gatt's voice, full of fondness._  
_'All these years, Hissrad, and you throw away all that you are. For what? For this? For_ them?' _Pain. Betrayal._  
_A cold rage suddenly snapping into place. His own voice, harsh and sharper than he's ever heard it before. 'His name is the Iron Bull.')_

Then Bull's fingers were tugging the trousers from Leo's legs, baring his hips and thighs and calves to the cool wet air, and even that much was gone as Bull's hand wrapped around his length and began to stroke. Distantly, Leo thought he might be whimpering, thought Bull might be doing something about his own clothing, but he couldn't form words through the jolts of lightning traveling over his groin, his spine, his throat, his fingers. 

Bull's eye was fixed on his face, intense and black and bottomless, and Leo wanted to drown in it. He found his hands sliding up Bull's neck even as their bodies rocked together against the trellis. 

He ran his hands over Bull's ears, his fingers tracing the twitching edges, the pads of his thumbs finding the tips and rolling delicately over them. A hot breath of air crashed against the skin of his neck, and the Bull's rhythm faltered. Half-delirious, Leo froze, still panting. "Bull?"

"Fuck, Kadan," Bull growled into his throat. He paused, dragging Leo's legs around his waist and pressing his naked erection tight against the mage's ass. Leo's entire body shuddered. "Fuck," Bull repeated. "Do that again."

"Wh--" Leo inhaled, trying to remember how to think, aware that his hands were shaking now, his fingertips tingling, his palms clammy against Bull's skin. "This?"

The Qunari's ears felt like soft leather, the one part of the man's body that wasn't covered in scars, and when Leo's fingertips ghosted over their sharpened edges, they twitched, and Bull groaned.

"Oh," Leo whispered. "Maker." He did it again, and the _sound_ Bull made--something like a growl, something like the tightening of his throat until only a keen escaped, almost made Leo lose his grip on the Qunari's waist. His head fell bonelessly forward, his lips finding the slick skin of Bull's chest, and the man surged against him, snarling, the whole trellis creaking with his urgency.

_(A dowager droning in his ear, and he thinks of his mother even as he sees the shadow of the Bull's horns across a chasm filled with petticoats and jeweled dancing slippers._

_He's listening to the woman's babbling and turning it over and over until he can find the details Leliana can use; he's sitting unnoticed in the library of the Ostwick Circle tower, eavesdropping on the enchanters as they cast hooded glances toward the Templars; he's in the study of the Trevelyan estate, and his brothers have cornered him, and he is learning not to cry, learning how to let the wall of iron rise behind his eyes._

_And he's in that ballroom, Inquisitor Face seamless and impassive, listening to that woman drone and picking her apart without even thinking about it, staring across at the Iron Bull's grimace of irritation and suddenly realizing that they are nothing alike.)_

Bull's hands found his wrists, and pulled his arms forward, wrapped Leo's fingers around his horns. Leo whimpered and clutched at them, arms straining, and then somehow there was oil on Bull's hands and a finger sliding inside of his body.

Leo hissed, his fingers spasming around the Bull's horns, writhing helplessly. It was urgent now, skirting the edge of painful, the Qunari too impatient to wait long before adding a second finger, each pulse and stroke sending lightning jumping from Leo's fingertips to crackle over Bull's horns. " _Maker_ , Bull, _please_ ," he croaked, aware his knees were trembling against Bull's ribs, unable to do anything about it.

Bull chuckled, the sound low and dark and predatory, and then he was sliding into Leo's body and the mage could no longer process sound. He thought he might be breathing, but couldn't be certain. Nothing was left of the world but the Bull filling him, rocking against him, hot breath on his skin, horns beneath his palms, the Bull's chest slick and tight against his own as they rolled together.

The Qunari's panting was as loud as thunder, pierced by cricketsong. His rhythm picked up, and Leo was whimpering now, strangled sounds coming out of his throat as every thrust dug vine twigs deeper into his back, and the trellis was groaning, and there were voices drifting in from somewhere distant, and his body was tightening, flooding with warmth, the breath pouring from his lungs as he lost everything but the Bull's body and the Bull's name and the Bull's _movement._

"Kadan," he heard, scarred lips hot against his ear. 

_(Trevelyan, my lord, boy, apprentice, mage, Herald, Inquisitor--)_

_"Leo,"_ Bull snarled.

One more powerful thrust and Leo was coming apart, the air crushed from his lungs, a snarl rumbling against his body as the Bull followed swiftly after. He felt rather than heard the sharp cry that escaped his own throat, the growl in his lover's skin, and his world was swept away by the cresting wave.

He tried to breathe, tried to move, but he could do nothing but cling to the Bull's horns, shuddering, and he had no idea how much time had passed before he could see again.

Finally Leo collapsed, boneless, against the Qunari's body. The man was still rocking gently against him, massive arms wrapping around his shoulders and holding him close through the aftershocks.

"Oh... Bull," he managed to whisper.

"Mm. Kadan." The ghost of a fingertip trailing down his throat. Leo shivered.

Reluctantly, the Qunari retreated from his body, letting him slide back down the trellis, and Leo had to make a conscious effort to pry his fingers from the man's horns. His knees nearly buckled beneath him, but the Bull was solid and safe before him, enveloping him, arms wrapped tight around him, keeping him upright. 

Leo let his cheek come to rest against his lover's skin, listening to the crickets and just... breathing.

"Hey, Kadan." There were thick fingers running through his hair, scarred lips pressing gently against the top of his skull. "You did good tonight."

Leo closed his eyes, his throat tightening.

His back stung where the Bull touched him; the trellis had left long scrapes down his spine. The flagstones were rough beneath his bare feet. He was standing in the Empress of Orlais' gardens, naked, with a nude Qunari wrapped around his body as distant conversation continued to drift over the hedges. 

A little chuckle rose in his throat, unbidden. Bull made a questioning noise.

Leo shook his head, smiling into the man's chest. "Do... you remember that girl in the Hinterlands, Dennet's daughter?"

"Set up those little post races." There was a smile in Bull's voice. "Little surprised you went for it. One minute we're marking out spots for watchtowers, the next you're in the saddle." He cupped his hand at the back of Leo's neck, soft and warm, a chuckle on his lips. "Thought Varric was gonna piss himself laughing." 

Leo exhaled, feeling warmth pool in his belly, and tightened his grip on Bull's waist, unwilling to let the embrace end. "That was the first time I'd ever been on a real horse."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." He could feel Bull's heartbeat beneath his cheek. The man's fingers were tracing easy circles in his spine now, gentle and soothing over skin rubbed raw. "I thought about running."

Bull's grip on him tightened, just a little, and Leo inhaled slowly, the breath a stuttering, faltering thing.

"Thought about... just jumping the poor girl's track and bolting off into the wilderness." Leo's eyes opened, and he found himself staring at nothing, his eyes unfocused and empty. "It was foolish. Cassandra would have found me, dragged me back, kicking and screaming. Haven had a few Templars, even then. It would have been over... quickly." He swallowed. "But I thought about it. Thought about... not going back." His throat closed, and he pressed his face into Bull's chest again, trying to breathe.

"Mm." Bull was silent for a moment. Eventually, he drew away, running one absent fingertip down Leo's jaw. Leo shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, feeling suddenly bereft without Bull's arms around him.

Bull turned and bent with a groan to gather up their discarded clothing. He offered Leo his trousers, a curious little frown bending his lips. "What stopped you?"

Leo swallowed.

 _(The horse beneath him. Feeling like a child again, trembling atop a pony that had seemed so massive ten years ago, before the night terrors, before the fire in the library, before men in silver armor had come for him._  
_The wind in his face. The road thundering past. A tight longing in his chest._  
_The gap in the fence._  
_His hands tightening on the reins._  
_Then, a powerful, enthusiastic yell: the Qunari, this terrifying, massive man who kills bandits, who cheered the dragon on as it flew free high overhead, who is passing reports on Leo's actions to a nation that would see him bound and silenced and broken._  
_The energy in the Iron Bull's cheers, raw and honest. Like nothing he's ever heard before. It's joy, unashamed, unguarded, unafraid. How can joy exist without fear?_  
_He doesn't understand._  
_He wants to._  
_He doesn't jump the fence.)_

"I don't know," Leo whispered, pulling the tunic over his shoulders, looking away. 

When he fumbled with his buttons, silver hands swallowed his fingers, smoothing the silk into place. Leo looked up to find the Bull, horns tangled in the leaves that dripped from the arbor overhead, humidity and sweat bright on his chest, a crooked smile on his moonlit lips.

Gently, Bull lifted a finger and traced the edge of Leo's jaw, following the line of the mage's face and tracing the edges of his fear. Leo froze, eyes wide. Bull chuckled. "Hissrad," he accused, still smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hmmm I don't think there'll be much smut in this chapter  
> Bull: Or--OR--and now hear me out on this one--garden sex.  
> Leo: *cough* I, ah, I don't think--  
> Bull: Gaaaarden seeeeex  
> Leo: ...  
> Leo: You know he makes some good points  
> Me: ffs you two


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, Leo talks about his backstory in this one, and you've probably figured out by now that he didn't have the best childhood. Nothing graphic, just a quick summary of systematic emotional and physical abuse basically. Tags will be updated accordingly. Stay safe my lovelies, be good to each other.

**_VI_ **

A massive _crack_ of shattering stone thundered through the desert air, and fire blossomed across the crumbling face of Adamant. Inquisition forces and Grey Wardens had become indistinguishable in the courtyard, a sea of screaming ants fleeing the fortress' destruction.

All around them was the roar of fire and the shouting of multitudes of voices. The night sky of the Approach was hot with the rising fires consuming Adamant, angry and orange above the crumbling walls, and Leo's nose and throat were choked with dust and blood and char and rot.

"Bull," he croaked, distantly aware that his hands were shaking, that the brand in his palm was hissing, "Bull!"

The Qunari barely reacted to the sound of his name, his one good eye jumping distractedly over the chaos, and when he looked at the Inquisitor, his eye seemed to slide over Leo's face, barely seeing him, part of him still trapped in the Fade. 

Leo's throat tightened, and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to inhale. "Bull," he said again, hearing his own voice as something foreign and harsh, "get Sera out of here." Behind him, the elf's arms were wrapped around herself and her eyes were haunted, wide and staring and twitching in every direction, every fresh scream making her jump, making her reach for her bow. "I need you to take Cassandra, and get Sera back to Skyhold before she hurts someone."

Bull's lip curled in a silent snarl, and Leo could see the effort it took the man to fix his gaze on Leo's face. "What about you?"

"There's work to be done here." Leo could feel his fingernails biting into his palms now, the knuckles of his left hand white with tension, the leather of his staff grip creaking under his fingers and green light a constant, dribbling blaze down his wrist. Bull's frown deepened, and Leo hissed, looking away.

_('You! You've destroyed the Grey Wardens!'_  
_'You did that to yourself, you stupid bitch! All I did was dangle a little power before your eyes, and you couldn't wait to get your hands bloody!'_

_Dorian's voice, sardonic and filled with truth. 'And what if you need more power? You always need more power.')_

A broad silver hand found his shoulder, wrenching him back around, forcing him to meet Bull's gaze. The Qunari's teeth were bared in a silent snarl of frustration, almost a plea. "Let Cullen handle whatever's left, Boss," he growled, his voice rough with a kind of need, _kadan_ hanging silent and heavy in the air between them.

Leo's palm was spitting now, pins and needles and acid in his flesh, spewing green sparks into the burning air. "Bull," he hissed, "there are still rifts and demons everywhere. Last I checked we only have the one Anchor, so unless you'd like to go consult with Solas about where to find a few more orbs so that we can begin passing these out like _candy_ \--" One massive surge from the Anchor, and Leo snarled, clutching at his wrist. "I have _work_ to do," he snapped. 

"Boss--"

"Go back to Skyhold, Bull."

For a long moment, Bull didn't respond, and Leo closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the staff. The roar of fires seemed to fill his ears, crumbling rock and shouting and the tramping of booted feet. Finally, he heard Bull's voice, tight and clipped, rigidly controlled. "Understood, Inquisitor."

Baring his teeth, Leo swung his staff into position and strode back toward the fortress, forcing himself not to look back.

 

*

 

It took three days to close the last of the rifts. By the time it was finished, more than half the Grey Wardens of Orlais were dead.

"Inquisitor." Josephine's voice was sudden in the quiet of her office, soft against the crackling of her fire. "I know that what happened at Adamant must have been... difficult for you. You have my sympathies. If there is anything..." she trailed off, her eyes full of sorrow, and it _galled_ him, it truly did, the way she spoke to him, the way she looked at him: warily, as if he were a wild animal, restless and unpredictable.

And perhaps he was. Leo's jaw tightened, and the fingers of his left hand curled into a fist.

He let his eyes slide to her desk, and clasped behind him fingers that still trembled with rage, even now, days of travel distant from what had happened at the fortress. He could feel the wall of iron rising up behind his eyes, all expression draining from his face, and met Josephine's gaze, an icy calm settling around him. "I'm fine," he murmured, the words cold, firm. "Is there anything I should know?" 

She paused for a moment, studying his face. "Lieutenant Aclassi and the Chargers have sent word ahead that the destruction of Adamant is nearly complete. They report no complications. In the meantime, the last of our own forces returned this morning, with... with Magister Erimond in tow." 

Leo's jaw tightened.

"He is conscious, and you may pass judgment on him at your leisure," Josephine said quietly, her eyes dropping to her papers, her fingers carefully stacking and restacking them before her. 

"Thank you, Josephine," Leo said, and turned on his heel to leave the room.

"Also..."

Leo paused.

Josephine's voice was tentative, hopeful now. "We have had a number of petitions, from various people across Orlais and Fereldan," she said softly, carefully. "They... wish to know what Andraste said to you, while you were in the Fade."

Leo felt his lip curl, and he closed his eyes, lifting his fingers to his temples, trying to squeeze a growing headache from his skull. "It wasn't Andraste who handed me out of the damned rift," he snapped. "It was Divine Justinia."

"With all due respect, Inquisitor, that may not matter to the people. They feel a need to be... inspired."

For a long moment, Leo couldn't speak, his jaws too tightly clenched, his eyes closed, and he tried to remember how to breathe. 

Finally, he snarled, "The Inquisition will not answer their petitions. That's all."

Then he turned and left the room, and the door swung shut behind him.

 

*

 

The Inquisitor's throne had not been built for comfort. Leo did not sit easy in it. He prayed, every time he had to do this, that he never would. Here, clutching at the carved arms of this monstrous seat, he was no longer human, no longer a person, and if he did not clung to himself with everything he had, the throne would swallow him.

_('You know I'll follow you anywhere, Boss, but nobody said anything about--')_

Even now, some part of him was still in the Fade, the look on Bull's face still dancing before his eyes, the sound of the man's voice as he urged his companions to kill him, told them how. Leo's eyes roved over the faces packed into the hall and saw none of them, saw nothing but hundreds of dead Wardens, and fear on his lover's face.

_('If I get possessed, come at me from the left--Cullen says my defense is weaker there--')_

Erimond spoke, but Leo heard little of it. The speech rang in the open space of the hall, acidic and raw and full of triumph, but Leo simply stared at him, feeling empty, as though he watched the scene from somewhere far away. 

_('The Qunari will make a lovely host for one of my minions. Or perhaps I'll ride in his body myself--')_

There was not nearly enough fear on Livius Erimond's face, but Leo Trevelyan was his father's son, and he knew he had only to find the right word to break this man.

_"Tranquility."_

It echoed through the sudden silence of the great hall, and Leo was all too aware of the shock on every face he could see, the rage and disbelief. For a moment, no one moved, every soldier, every dignitary, every conscripted mage afraid to breathe, all staring at him in horror.

He could see it on the faces of the mages: _How could he? He's one of us. How_ could _he?_

But it didn't matter. His eyes were fixed on the look on Erimond's face, the horror, the panic. The other mage began to gibber, his panicked squealing shattering the silence.

Suddenly everyone was speaking at once, whispers rushing through the assembly, whispers that turned to murmurs and then excited chattering conversations, the soldiers in attendance powerless to stop it, powerless to keep the peace in the Inquisitor's court. 

And none of it mattered. All Leo could hear, all he wanted to hear, was Erimond's scream of protest, his blubbering and cursing, as he was dragged away.

"That will be all," he said to Josephine, quietly, as she stared at him with widened eyes. He stood, freeing his trembling fingers from the arms of the throne, and walked away. 

Before him, the crowd of onlookers parted, falling swiftly back, cringing from his path out of the great hall as if by merely catching his gaze they might perish.

 

*

 

When Bull finally found Leo, the mage was standing at his balcony, his knuckles wrapped so tightly around the stone of the rail that they had whitened, his jaw so grimly clenched that the tendons stood out from the flesh of his neck. He wasn't moving, barely breathing, barely even shivering against the icy wind howling out of the Frostbacks.

The Inquisitor didn't turn when the Bull approached, didn't look up, didn't speak. His shoulders tensed slightly, and that was the only signal the Qunari had that the Inquisitor was even aware of his presence. 

Bull almost sighed, his chest aching. The sun had long since set, leaving little more than a thin red line of jagged light leaking over the mountains, and the cold was brutal now, but Leo didn't seem to notice. 

Approaching carefully, Bull leaned forward to rest his elbows on the rail beside Leo's gripping hands, placing himself just close enough to the mage that their shoulders touched. 

"Is it done?" The words came as a whisper, hoarse and tight against the wind.

"An hour ago." Bull stared out over the mountains, watching as they slowly began to vanish into the night. For a long moment, there was silence between them, raw as an open wound.

Finally, Leo drew in a long, shuddering breath. His gaze still fixed on the horizon, he muttered, "I'm sorry, Bull." 

Bull glanced down at him. "For what?"

A disgusted snort escaped Leo's lips, and he shook his head, staring down at his clenched fingers, his lips twisting. "For how I spoke to you at Adamant. For dragging you into the Fade." He paused, and his brow tightened. 

He pried one hand free of the railing and let its fingers curl in front of him, staring at them without really seeing them. "For being a mage," he whispered.

He tightened his jaw again, as if to lock away anything else he might have said. The wind yanked at his hair, the last shreds of indigo light staining it purple, deepening the shadows in his pale face until he seemed hollow and gaunt and empty. Carefully, the Iron Bull slid an arm around Leo's shoulder. The human's body was rigid beneath his arm, trembling even, and not with the cold. Beneath the smell of frost was the acid, curling scent of smoke, and Leo's skin was hot beneath his tunic, his muscles tense. 

Bull let out a long, slow breath of air, squeezing Leo's shoulder beneath his fingers and listening to the low whistle of the wind over the stone of the balcony. 

_(Grand Enchanter FIona's face, ashen and tightening in anger, and Leo's voice, quiet and tired but echoing in the open space of Redcliffe Castle's great hall._  
_'We cannot close the Breach without you, but we would be mad to trust you.'_  
_And only Bull had seen the way Leo's eyes had shifted sideways, the way his hands had tightened.)_

"Varric asked me one time how I felt about mages," Bull said suddenly, breaking the silence between them. He felt Leo tense slightly under his arm, but tightened his grip, keeping the young man close. "I guess everybody expects me to hate magic or something, just because I'm--because of the Qun."

Leo said nothing.

Bull paused, letting out a slow breath of air. "Mostly, though, I always felt a little sorry for them. It comes to our kids later in life, same as it does with you people. So, you might spend ten years waiting to grow up to be a baker or a soldier or something, and then suddenly you find out that you just... aren't."

A little shudder ran down Leo's spine, and he leaned a little closer against Bull's side.

"After that, all they can do is keep trying," Bull murmured, letting the hand on Leo's shoulder slide upward, his fingertip tracing a gentle line along the mage's neck. "You don't question the purpose life gives you. You make it yours, you own it. Asit tal-eb."

For a long moment, Leo didn't respond.

Then the young man's hand lifted, and he wrapped his fingers around Bull's. Leo's palm was hot as a fire-warmed stone against the back of his hand, the smell of smoke thickening in the air. The mage tugged gently at Bull's hand, guiding the man's thumb along his jaw, where a thin, ragged scar was stitched along the bone. 

Bull had seen it before, had touched it before, but this was something new. There was a plea in the tremor that ghosted through his Inquisitor's hand, desperate and taut as a bowstring in the air between them. 

Bull traced the shape of the scar with his hands, committing it to memory. 

"Templar," the young man murmured. "Barely a week into my time at the Ostwick circle. I was still having the nightmares. I lit my bed on fire. He backhanded me to wake me, before I could hurt myself or the other apprentices. He was wearing gauntlets. I was twelve."

Bull said nothing, but his fingers tensed. 

_Asit tal-eb._

Leo laughed quietly, sourly. "He meant well."

Slowly, the Qunari let his fingers move from jaw to temple, a silent question in the fingertip that circled the other scar, the one that cut a neat line through Leo's left eyebrow. 

"That time, I was upset," the mage murmured, answering the unspoken question. "They'd caught someone else doing..." he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Something. I don't even recall now. I watched the Templars beat him, right there on the floor of the library. We all watched. No one said anything. What could we say?" Leo's eyes closed, and he leaned closer, settling himself against Bull's shoulder, swallowing. "I was holding a glass in one hand. It shattered."

"You lost control," Bull murmured. 

"It's a mage's duty to learn control," Leo whispered. 

Bull felt the human's jaw tighten beneath his hand.

"It came in cycles. Something would happen, everyone would tense up. For a while, there would be eyes on everything we did. Eventually, they might forget. Perhaps, after a quiet month or two, they'd let you go to the library without an escort. Then, something else would happen, and they'd tighten up again." A shuddering breath escaped Leo's lungs, and his fingers tightened around Bull's hand. "After Fiona's vote, dissolving the Circles, our Templars turned on us."

Bull inhaled slowly, tasting the smoke in the air, closing his eyes. 

"The Templar who gave me the scar used to watch me meditate," Leo whispered. "He felt responsible for me, I think, since he'd injured me. He used to make me feel safe. I thought, _as long as he's watching me, I can't hurt anyone._ " The mage's fingers spasmed, and Bull could hear the halting rasp of air over his throat, almost a sob. "He found me in the library and came at me with his sword. I burned him to ash."

Bull could feel Leo shaking against him, could feel his own throat closing. _Asit tal-eb. Asit tal-eb, asit tal-eb..._

"One mage," Leo whispered, and Bull glanced down to see moisture glistening in the young man's eyes, lines of rage carved in his slender face. "One mage in hundreds, in _thousands,_ just one, and suddenly a century's worth of goodwill is gone in an instant." His hands curled into fists before him, and he bared his teeth against the wind. "Suddenly the Grey Wardens are gone, decimated, shattered and crippled because of _one mage_. Suddenly we're at war because _one mage_ took matters into his own hands and decided to blow something up to prove a point.

"Suddenly, because of _one fucking mage--_ " Leo was shivering now, his chest beginning to shake, his breathing harsh and ragged-- " _one fucking mage_ who decided that walking the Fade wasn't enough, that he had to have the Golden City and the Throne of the Maker, too, because of _him_ we have the Blight, and the whole world is ruined. The Divine is dead. And--" 

The Mark on his hand spat sudden green fire into the frigid air, and Leo snarled through his teeth, gripping the light between white knuckles. 

He looked up, suddenly meeting Bull's gaze, and the expression on his face was so purely furious that the Qunari almost took a step back in surprise. "How could I make Erimond Tranquil, they asked. How could I _not?_ " He was snarling now, his teeth bare. "Because of mages like _him_ , every mage in Thedas suffers. _That's_ why the Circles exist, our _'dismal little mage prisons'._ That's why _your_ people sew their mages' lips shut. _Him._ " Leo shuddered, his eyes unfocusing. "One mage, one worthless, pathetic man, one instant--that's all it takes to set every mage in Thedas back a thousand years," he whispered. "A _lifetime_ of healing and all anyone remembers of Anders is the five minutes that _matter._ A _thousand years_ of mage healers, mage scholars, mage research benefiting the world, and all anyone will ever remember of mages is Erimond, and Anders, and fucking _Corypheus._ "

Now Bull pried Leo forcefully away from the rail, yanking the young man against him, wrapping both arms around the mage's back and pressing him into his chest. The human's slender frame shook in his grip, and Bull leaned forward, resting his chin in Leo's hair.

"And for just a moment, when they gave me that sword, when they called me Inquisitor, I thought, maybe..." Leo's whisper was muffled against the Qunari's chest, choked, his fingers curling against Bull's skin. "Maybe, if I could just... make them remember _one_ mage who..." He snarled, wrapping one fist around Bull's harness, pressing his face against the Qunari's body. 

_(The quiet conversation atop the battlements, Cassandra's lips tightening, Leo's brow furrowed, his spine tense under his tunic, the movement of his mouth, Bull's mind racing to match motion to words. 'What will you do if I say no?')_

Bull pressed his lips into Leo's hair, his heart aching.

"But why does it have to be _me_ ," the mage whispered, pain filling his voice, choking him. "Why is it _me_ , Bull?"

_('Look... just... hit me, all right? Just hit me with the fucking stick, Boss.' Please, kadan._  
_'...All right.' Leo's brow, furrowed. The stick in his hands, held before him in a staff grip._  
_His eyes, meeting Bull's, green and full of trust as he strikes. No questions. No holding back._  
_A snarl on Bull's tongue as he purges the Nightmare from his system, and then, as the strikes come quicker and Leo's lips part for a panting breath, the ozone smell of electricity in the air. Relief flooding his gut at the stench of it, and his body going limp under the impacts.)_

"Kadan," Bull murmured quietly, still holding the young man tight against him, his lips moving against the mage's hair. "Kadan. When we were in the Fade, and you were fighting spiders."

"I was fighting spiders," Leo muttered. "You were fighting... something else."

"I was fighting you," Bull whispered.

Leo lifted his face, meeting the Qunari's gaze, his eyes widening. "Me..." He swallowed, and looked away. "Possessed. Abominations wearing my face. That's what the Nightmare showed you? Because it knew you're afraid of demons?"

"No. Just you. You as you are, but without magic." Bull leaned forward, pressing his lips against Leo's forehead. "None of them could fight worth a damn, so I just... killed them. Without the Qun, I couldn't stop myself. And without magic, they... couldn't stop me."

He felt Leo's body shaking against his, smelled the smoke on the breeze. "So don't you ever fucking apologize for being a mage, Kadan," he snarled, tightening his grip. "I swear to fuck. Don't ever fucking apologize for that."

The mage shuddered against him, his fingers digging into Bull's chest, his face pressed hard against the Qunari's skin. He sucked in a ragged breath, and then lightning was crackling in a sudden wave over his body, arcing between them, wrapping its brilliant fingers around Bull's ribs, dancing in stinging steps across his arms, humming in crawling strips down his spine. 

The Iron Bull seized on the feeling, savoring it, sucking in a breath of cold, ozone-tainted air, baring his teeth against Leo's red hair.

"Bull," the mage whispered, softly, desperately. 

The Qunari's fingers found his chin, drew his face upward, and Bull claimed Leo's lips with his own, growling low in his throat, catching Leo's mouth in his teeth, yanking the human against him.

 _"Kadan,"_ Bull growled. Then, adrenaline rolling in waves through him, he swept Leo into his arms, his teeth finding the mage's ear. Leo's fingers dug into his neck, lightning sparking from his nails, and with a low, animal snarl on his lips, the Iron Bull carried him inside, kicking the balcony door shut behind them.

It was rough and urgent, the wall slamming into them, Leo's skin beneath his teeth, the sound of tearing fabric, the raw tremor of a snarl in Bull's throat. The mage's hands were on his back, nails digging in, lightning crackling over his skin, pouring from Leo's fingers, and Bull groaned, hot arousal and _relief_ flooding his body. _"Fuck,"_ he whispered into Leo's cheek, the word almost a croak. "Keep doing that, kadan." He reached for the buttons of Leo's tunic, fumbling, frustrated, _yanking._

Abruptly, there was fire under his fingers. Bull sucked in a slow breath a drew back, feeling his body tense, feeling heat erupt between them, curling around him, smelled burning cloth--

Flames blossomed across the mage's entire body, pouring over his skin in a rolling, brilliant tide, and Bull abruptly couldn't breathe. 

Leo closed his eyes, sinking into his magic, and Bull felt it on his skin as fabric curled and blackened and fell away, and he had to fight to draw air into his lungs. Fire poured from Leo's fingertips and encircled them like a blanket, embracing them both, binding them together. It raced through tunic and trousers, burning them to so much ash in an instant, and Bull felt his own clothing falling away, consumed, crumbling from his skin in a wave of impossible heat that never touched his skin.

Fire settled around his shoulders and Leo's like a cloak, but even as it ate the cloth from his body, Bull felt nothing but warmth, and the sheer amount of control that must have taken--the precision of it, with something as volatile as fire--Bull fought to inhale, fought to find the words to describe the way gravity had inverted itself in his gut.

_('It's a mage's duty to learn control.'_  
_His words to Solas: 'I've always enjoyed fighting. What if I lose control?'_  
_Solas' reply: 'You have the Inquisition... You have the Inquisitor.')_

The fire vanished as quickly as it had come, and then Leo was falling against him, shaking, clinging to him as a drowning man clings to a spar in the storm-tossed sea. "Bull," he pleaded, and now the Qunari could feel slender fingers digging into his back, tight and desperate, "I don't--please, I don't--" _I don't want to think anymore._

And this, at last, was a question Bull could answer, a problem he could solve, a purpose he could fill. "I've got you, Kadan," he whispered, and pulled Leo close, yanking his arms tight and dragging him to the bed. 

He drew the ropes close and wrapped his mage in them, clothed him in armor against the storm. He placed himself between his Inquisitor and Thedas, finding those burdens and taking them, prying them from Leo's fingers and ripping them away. Lightning rolled in stinging waves between them, but now Bull recognized it for what it was: not a loss of control, but a choice made, a sign of trust, one that he was suddenly sure Leo had never offered before, to anyone.

Even now, Leo was nearly silent, quiet gasps and whispered pleas, and as he tied the mage down, Bull found his world shrinking, the chaos and wildness of the universe beyond this room falling away, until nothing remained but the slender body tangled against his own and the sounds of Leo's lungs filling and emptying again as if nothing else mattered. 

The mage barely made a sound when he came, hot and fast and with barely any warning, his body snapping tighter than steel against Bull's chest, and for just an instant, Bull teetered on the brink before falling in.

It felt like fire, pouring from Leo's hands to burn the world away.

Bull had no idea how long they simply clung to each other, collapsed across the bed. For long moments, Leo trembled against him, his fingers spasming periodically against his palms, trembling against the ropes that bound his wrists. Bull sucked in a careful breath of air, running his hand through Leo's hair in the dark, finding the mage's shoulders and tracing the lines of him as if to remind himself that the body against him was real, was alive, was safe.

"Kadan," he murmured, his voice low and harsh. 

"Bull," Leo whispered back. 

Gently, he slid his hands over the bindings, easing the knots, smoothing chafed skin.

"I meant what I said on the walltops, Bull," Leo murmured. "You're a good man."

_('Thieving, murderous bandits--and now I'm one of them.'_  
_'Bullshit. You're a good man--'_  
_'Without the Qun to live by--'_  
_'You're a good man! And if the Ben-Hassrath can't see that, then--then it's their loss!')_

A grunt worked its way out of Bull's throat, and the Qunari sighed, closing his eyes. "I'll never stop worrying about that," he admitted, and immediately felt something ease in him, as if the confession had lifted one more burden from his tired shoulders. "But you give me purpose, kadan." The words seemed almost strange to say, and Bull's throat tightened. They were too close, too intimate, too tightly tangled in the heat still flooding his gut. He wanted to say them again. "You give me purpose," he whispered.

"I can't be your Qun, Bull," he heard Leo murmur. "And you can't be my Circle. But--" he stopped, and Bull could hear him swallow. 

Bull understood. He'd accepted that truth a while ago, really. There was so much alike between them, so much fear turned inward, fear of a good Qunari turned Tal-Vashoth, fear of a good Circle mage turned apostate, and Bull knew neither of them would ever truly be rid of that fear. But--

_(Shoving Leo behind himself at the first scream that rips from the dragon's throat, ready to hurl himself at the creature to keep it from targeting his Inquisitor. Placing himself between Leo and the world._

_Then, the sour fog of the Nightmare's world, dulling his senses, and panic rising in his throat, until Leo steps past him, cold defiance on his face--placing himself between Bull and the Fade.)_

"Thank you."

Bull hummed, feeling his own tension finally beginning to ease, the last dregs of what the Nightmare had stirred up finally flowing out of him. He ran a gentle hand down Leo's spine, settling back against the pillows. "For what?"

"For staying, after the Storm Coast." The mage's voice was quiet, but there was no fear in it now, just the fog of oncoming sleep. 

A little chuckle worked its way out of Bull's throat, and the Qunari closed his eyes, feeling boneless as he sank into the sheets. "Thanks for wanting me to, kadan," he murmured.

_('And Boss--whenever you need an ass kicked, the Iron Bull is with you.')_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Leo made Erimond Tranquil. Can't imagine that's a popular choice o_o;;;; Leave a comment if you want to talk about it, I'd be interested in discussing the whole mage rights issue with folks :)
> 
> Also... I have a tumblr now???? How did that happen, I'm super confused. (lekosis.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, did this one fight me.
> 
> We're almost there, guys.

VII

 

In the small hours of the morning, the banked fire in the Inquisitor's hearth long since cold, the Iron Bull was drawn from sleep when he felt Leo's warm body slipping silently from beneath his arm. 

Somewhere in the fog of half-dreaming, Bull could hear the quiet rustle of cloth and soft padding footsteps over the stone, the muffled rattle of the latch at the balcony door. A little gust of frigid air swept into the room and halted again, cut off as quickly as it had arrived. Then, silence.

The Qunari hauled his eye open, his brows drawing together. 

Blue shadow still hung heavy in the open space of the Inquisitor's quarters, the balcony doors a rectangle of dim silver light. Beyond the delicate glass, the day was still little more than a grey promise on the jagged horizon, and a thin veil of snow was drifting past, clinging to the door's narrow panes, blurring the world beyond.

The Iron Bull dragged a hand over his face. The banked fire had died to ash in the night, and the pool of warmth where Leo had been pressed against him was swiftly fading. Now that he was awake, he could feel the cold in his bones, in the mass of ruined tissue in his eye socket, a dull throbbing deep in his skull where his horns began. 

And as it always did when he woke in the early light of dawn, the faint whispers of a string of Qunlat ran through Bull's head.

_(Soft voices lifting in chant, perfect unison echoing from perfect tongues down perfect halls. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit...)_

Lips twisting, he put the litany from his mind, and lifted his gaze to where Leo had gone.

Clad only in a thin pair of trousers, the little human stood barefooted on the icy stone of the balcony, a sphere of green light cupped between his hands and snow swirling around him. His head was bowed and his shoulders squared, as if he prayed, and he wasn't shivering, despite the snow that drifted over his bare skin. 

The back of Bull's neck prickled at the sight.

Slowly, Leo began to move, snowflakes turning to steam as they twirled in eddies around his freckled skin. 

Bull felt for a moment as if time had slowed, as if all agency had flowed from his body. He'd never seen these steps before, but he knew it for what it was: some of the antaam he'd known had used movement like this, slow and calm and rhythmic, to meditate, to center their thoughts and keep their bodies strong. 

But none of them had been saarebas, and none of them had shepherded little spheres of veilfire through the air in steady hands as they moved.

_(Cole's gaunt face lit by veilfire in the dim shadows of the Fallow Mire, rainwater dripping from his hat as his fingers twist around his dagger's hilt, gazing into space and seeing everything the Iron Bull wishes he could cut away. 'Lying awake, sheets soaked in sweat, afraid to call the Tamassrans. Shadows make shapes in the dark.'_

_His pale eyes, finally alighting on Bull's face and seeing straight through him, his gaze so piercing Bull almost forgets to breathe. 'If it gets in my head, how do I cut it out?')_

The mage's movements were steady, smooth with the familiarity of years of practice. Watching him, the Iron Bull wondered if he'd learned it in the Circle, wondered who might have taught him. How many years had his kadan spent doing this, slipping out of bed just before dawn to touch the Fade?

And what did it mean, after months of sharing quarters with the young man, that the Iron Bull was only just now seeing it?

The kata came to its end and Leo rolled his shoulders easily back to center. He was breathing a little harder now, but his eyes were calm, even as the green light of the veilfire flickered over them. 

His hands lifted, and the sphere of magic disintegrated, a final burst of veridian flaring into the dim grey of the swirling snow. 

_('It's a mage's duty to learn control...')_

The Inquisitor didn't look up, didn't turn to face the balcony doors. But a touch of tension entered his shoulders, the way it always did when Leo knew someone was watching him. 

Bull's throat tightened, though he could not have rightly said why.

 

*

 

Morning sunlight spilled over the face of Thedas, and Leo's body ached.

Cullen's voice was sharp and steady as he spoke, gesticulating from across the war table. Before him, the Inquisition's armies marched in rows of metal over inked mountains and plains, advancing and retreating and advancing again. Leliana's eyes had hardened, the tiniest of smiles touching her lips, and Josephine had spread the support of the nobility in perfumed parchment before her like armor.

A picture was forming, one that had been coming into focus since Haven, and soon they'd be able to see the whole of it. 

One of Josephine's cast-iron map markers turned slowly between Leo's hands, the dozen points of the Inquisitor's own heraldry prickling at his palms. He could feel ash between his fingers, ash under his nails. He could taste ash on his tongue.

Rage demons had come to him last night in the Fade.

_(Let me help you, a whisper of heat that clawed at his skin, let me let me burn everything that troubles you, let me turn Val Royeaux to ash, let me crush the Circles into the dust, let me let me let me burn every templar as you burned your betrayer and melted his gauntlets into slag, oh, let me taste your glory, let me fuel it, oh, oh--)_

A slender pinch of green electricity spiked over his left palm, pain shooting straight up to his teeth, and Leo forced a breath of air into his lungs, refocusing his eyes on the war table's surface. Leliana was watching him, inscrutable, and when he glanced her way, she met his gaze for just a moment before returning her attention to the armies marching in cast-iron markers over the map. 

Cullen asked for a decision, and Leo gave it, barely aware of the words leaving his mouth, and hardly caring enough to recapture them. Here in the morning sunlight, in the open space of the war room, dust motes hanging like gold in the air, it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since last night--or only moments.

 _I always felt sorry for them,_ Bull had said, even as he wrapped his arms around Leo's body, even as he drew a mage against his chest. _Don't ever apologize,_ he'd said, this impossible man who was afraid of demons but had slept like a baby in Leo's bed even as his lover walked the Fade.

As if his arms hadn't been wrapped around an abomination in waiting.

As if Leo wouldn't be fighting for control of his own mind every night for the rest of his life.

Josephine had pulled out a fresh bundle of correspondences, unwrapping them in her delicate fingers, seals falling heavy from their ribbons as she shook them free, her hands dark and rich where they slid over the parchment. Her voice seemed to fade in and out, sharp and delicate one moment, soft and distant the next.

Tonight, he'd be visited by sloth. _Just walk away,_ it would whisper. _You've already done so much, fought so hard. You deserve to rest. Haven't you suffered enough?_

"Inquisitor?"

His eyes lifted. 

They were waiting. 

Slowly, his hands unclasped, and he reached forward to place the Inquisition's insignia back on the map, where it belonged. "It's time to plan our next move," he murmured.

 

*

 

Another gust of frigid wind, another bang of the door slamming shut, another cluster of bodies plunging into the fray in the Herald's Rest. Bull sipped delicately at his ale, letting the warmth of it pool in his belly, blossom in his chest.

"This is horse piss--"

"Shit on you! This is Fereldan, the good shit, just because you wouldn't know a good fucking whiskey if I slapped you across the ass with it--"

"Hey, what's she singing? Do you know this one?"

The tavern had been packed for hours, even early in the afternoon as it was, threads of conversation wrapping around the Iron Bull like tangled scarves, dozens of bodies mashed in around him in clusters of booze and laughter. Maryden's sweet voice was nearly drowned out by stomping feet and clapping hands around the fire.

That was maybe the Bull's favorite thing about the South: the way the cold brought people together. Up in Seheron, the only way you got a party like this going was if somebody important died.

Settling back in his chair, contentment spreading easily through his chest, the Iron Bull let his eyes unfocus, and drifted on the white noise surrounding him.

"And here's Yaric, just back from fieldwork--"

"If I have to polish one more shitting saddle I swear to Andraste's pearly nethers I'm gonna hurl Dennett over the south wall."

"Hey, get us another round, would you--"

"You know what I think?"

To his left, a cluster of soldiers had claimed a little table, crammed in a corner out of the way of the crowds. A drunkard stumbled past Bull, laughing and apologizing as he grabbed at Bull's shoulder for support, but the Qunari's attention was on heads pulled together, voices lowered, drink mugs brought close in grim hands to grim faces.

And not for the first time, the Iron Bull wondered if he'd ever be able to stop being what the Qun had made him.

"Go on, then, Turner, tell us what you think."

"Corporal had me inspecting every stitch of our tack today--hell, you've been running for the quartermaster, Ovar, you know better than me--half the keep is sharpening swords and the blacksmiths haven't had a rest day in weeks."

Bull lifted his mug to his lips, eyes roving over the crowd as he listened. There was a kind of urgency in the dull roar of conversation tonight, a thin thread of grim purpose to the revelry that Bull knew very well. 

"There were ravens going out from the loft this morning. More than usual. So?"

"Well, I'm friends with a scout down from the loft, and you know, she can't tell me shit, but she can _imply,_ can't she?"

"So, this is it? We're moving out?"

"Half the army's already mobilizing. Haven't you been in the valley? Corsairs and Green Archers are already gone, and Vineyard Boys are set to follow by nightfall. The Thirteenth and the rest of the cavalry, probably by the time the week is out."

Bull had seen that, of course. Even after the losses they'd sustained at Adamant, the Inquisition's army was a force to be reckoned with, and it left an awful gap when it moved on from a place. The valley below Skyhold, carpeted in tent and tack, had been thinning for days, maybe weeks. Those who remained had been getting busy, too, idle hands put to the forges and the craftworks, needles to leather and whetstones to steel. 

And he'd seen the ravens, that black cloud spreading across the sky from Leliana's domain only hours ago, not long after Leo had fastened his tunic and hardened his eyes and vanished down the stairs, swallowed by the war room's massive doors. 

"So, what? You think His Worship's pet witch finally earned her keep?"

"All I'm saying is, get your fucking swords ready, friends."

"I'll drink to that."

Bull's mug was empty. He grimaced, and set it aside. 

Another bang of the door in the wind, another gust of cold air sweeping over the crowds, another newcomer looking for the warmth of the hearth. The crowd's noise was rising, another song picking up, feet stamping and hands clapping, and Bull let out a breath of air, feeling the noise around him and thinking of the thunder of boots over ground harsher than tavern floors.

_(Cole, pulling his knives from the gut of an enemy, the sound of steel scraping over a rib. 'I see it: a wall of wounds. Nothing on this side has a family.'_

_The Iron Bull, pausing with one foot braced on the back of a corpse, halfway through dragging his axe from the bastard's spine. 'When we're at the tavern, or back home, it goes back to normal.' Yanking the weapon free, the crunch of bone, a spray of blood. 'People get to be people again.'_

_Cole's eyes, empty and curious. 'What if someone attacks you in a tavern?'_

_The Iron Bull's teeth, pressing tight against each other. His eyes, inexplicably finding the white flash of the Inquisitor's coat in the morning light. 'That's when shit gets messed up.')_

"Bull?"

The Iron Bull looked up, and found that Leo was standing before him. The young man's face was pale and sallow, his freckles standing out harsh against his skin, but his gaze was steady, even above the dark circles sunk below his eyes. Bull inhaled, nostrils flaring against the sudden warmth that rose in his chest. 

"Hey, kadan," he said. "How's it going?"

"Do you have some free time?" The question was soft, the Inquisitor's eyes tired.

There was something hanging in the air between them, some black heavy thing that clung to Leo's eyes like a shroud. But it could be put aside, for now. The Iron Bull could help him put it aside.

"For you?" Slowly, Bull rose to his feet. "Always."

 

*

 

Leo kicked the door shut behind them and was immediately slammed against it, the Bull's breath and teeth hot and aggressive on his throat, the Bull's hands already yanking impatiently on the clasps of his tunic. The stone of the stairwell was frigid but Bull was a furnace, a towering pillar of heat wrapping powerful arms around him and pinning him to the wall.

Leo's lips found Bull's, and Bull's tongue was in his mouth, Bull's horns rough against his palms. He felt the snap of clasp a bare second before the Qunari's hand was on his chest, nails raking down his abdomen, and Leo's whole body bucked against that hot line, a harsh breath of air shuddering into his lungs.

"Bull," he panted, urgency in his fingertips as they danced over the man's shoulders. "Bull, _please."_

Bull chuckled into his throat, then bit down on the web of muscle just inside his shoulder, and Leo could feel the high, thin sound that slipped from between his teeth. Electricity was already rolling in waves over his tongue.

Then Bull was tearing the tunic from his shoulders and broad, rough hands were tracing streaks of heat across his back, and powerful arms were lifting him from the earth. 

As the Iron Bull carried him bodily up the stairs, Leo's mouth was on his shoulder, his lips finding the first of the dozens of scars that he'd spent the last year memorizing.

A ragged one, long and thin, that followed the curve of the joint, wrapped tight as skin around powerful muscle. Below it, the two that ran parallel from the shoulder, reaching for a bicep that flexed under Leo's lips, a growl buzzing against the skin of Leo's throat, Bull's grip on him tightening, quickening their pace up the stairs. 

The two on his chest, slashed across each of his pectorals. A delicate tracery on one forearm, and the map of rivers and roads across his back. Two beneath his good eye, and the thicker one that sliced down his lip, hot with the Bull's heavy breaths when Leo's lips found it. 

"You're gonna get yourself in trouble, kadan," Bull chuckled, breath hot on Leo's throat.

Leo was panting now, the ache of his cock throbbing against Bull's stomach, the sway of Bull's body the only rhythm of his world. His hands were shaking, even as they found the buckles on Bull's harness, even as they tugged leather free of brass in just the right order to send the whole assemblage crashing back down the stairwell.

Bull snarled, and the sound sent a hot spike of electricity straight to Leo's already-aching cock.

He hit the bed with enough force to drive the breath from his lungs, and Bull was on top of him before he could move, one massive hand on his chest, the other tearing the belt from his trousers, the boots from his feet, the trousers from his legs. When Bull reached for his wrists, loops of rope in hand, Leo's arms were already straining, his eyes unfocused and his lips parting as he panted.

"Look at me."

Leo's eyes shot open, and he met Bull's gaze, unable to ignore the command, even as he shuddered under the force of it. The Qunari's good eye was dark with intent, piercing even in the dim light of the dying day, and he pulled Leo's arms taut against the headboard, finishing off the knot without ever breaking eye contact.

Leo forgot, in that instant, how to breathe.

Above him, Bull's torso hovered a bare breath away from his skin, a wall of stone, the man's knees flanking him, the weight of him driving Leo deeper into the bed, surrounding him, a bulwark against the weight of Thedas that had hung like an anchor from his shoulders every moment of this accursed day. Bull's hands slid down his arms, the stubs of his missing fingers rough against Leo's skin, his lips hot on Leo's collarbone. 

"All mine, now," Bull growled into his skin. "Say it."

"Yours," Leo whispered. He swallowed, throat dry. "Hhhh-- _Yours._ "

Bull chuckled, and with deft hands and purposeful fingers, began to loop the rope around Leo's body.

Leo's eyes slipped closed, and his head fell back against the bed, his throat bared, his chest heaving. Bonds settled around his arms, his shoulders, his torso, sliding across his chest, pulling taut along his ribs, encasing him, surrounding him just as the furnace of Bull's body surrounded him. 

Every knot against his skin, every length of rope pulled tight and secure around his body, let more of the tension leak from his spine, until he was boneless, helpless under the Qunari's hands.

Here, with Bull's boots and trousers falling to the floor behind them, with Bull's hand on his throat, Bull's fingers slick and hot as they slid inside of him, the terrible decision that had been reached in the war room that day did not exist.

He could put it from his mind.

"Mine," Bull growled again, and sank his teeth into the flesh just above Leo's hip.

Leo arched into it, a whimper falling from his lips. Another finger entered him, and he hissed with the burn of it, even as he rocked into it, helpless to do anything but buck his hips. Bull's free hand roved over Leo's chest, nails drawing hot lines down his skin, and then he was being lifted straight off the bed, his knees spread, and Bull was filling the space between them.

Leo's nails bit into his palms, and he uttered a strangled cry as Bull slid into his body, his own cock straining in the tight space between them. 

"Bull," he whimpered, and the Qunari laughed quietly, and began to move.

The Iron Bull gave Leo no time to adjust, no time to think, no time to do anything but cry out at the harsh pace he set. Bull was grunting above him, his fingers digging into Leo's hips, his lips parted as he thrust again and again into Leo's body, harsher and faster until they were both grunting with it, eyes falling shut as they sank together into the tide.

_(Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit...)_

A harsh snapping tension in Bull's hands, the Qunari's body going tight with one final breath, drew a sharp cry from Leo's lips. Heat flooded him, and he very nearly came from that alone. "Bull," he panted, "Bull, _please--"_

The hands on his hips came free, and plunged into the blankets on either side of him. Leo whimpered, still bucking against his bonds, as Bull slipped free of him, sliding down over his torso. Then, suddenly, there was heat on his cock, and the Qunari's lips engulfed him.

Leo yelped, arcing off the bed, his head slamming into the pillow. Bull swirled his tongue once and he was gone, trembling with the force of it, his vision going blank and every muscle in his body snapping taut in an instant.

Slowly, he came back to himself, panting, staring up at the darkened ceiling above him, trying to focus his eyes. 

Bull laid a gentle kiss along the side of his softening cock, and Leo had to close his eyes, whimpering against the wave of electricity that shot through his skin. The Qunari huffed out a laugh, and hauled himself back up the bed.

"Feeling good, kadan?"

For long moments, unable to summon the words to answer, Leo could only stare at the ceiling, chest trembling against the ropes that held him. The daylight was nearly gone now, the beams above the bed streaked with gold and rose. 

"Let's get you loose." Gentle hands on his skin, tugging the knots loose; Leo's eyes slid shut, his breathing slowly steadying. He could not have moved a finger right now if he'd tried, and let Bull lift him, unresisting, free of his bonds.

When the Iron Bull settled back against him, drawing him close and pulling up a blanket against the evening's growing chill, Leo forced his eyes open again.

"Bull," he whispered. 

The Qunari ran one thumb down the line of Leo's jaw, something soft and inscrutable in his good eye. "Right here, kadan."

With trembling fingers, Leo reached up and tugged the eyepatch free of Bull's face. One more scar--a mass of mangled tissue, smoothed over with time--and he ran his thumb gently over the ridges of it, swallowing against the wonder rising in his throat.

The Qunari's brows rose. "Leo?"

_(The wonder in Krem's voice, even now, years later. The confusion. The disbelief. 'Idiot didn't even know me.'_

_Something sharp in Leo's chest, something hot and tight and terrifying. 'That's how he lost the eye?'_

_Nearby, the Iron Bull, laughing at a stablehand's joke, the axe on his back catching harsh and jagged in the sun, and the hand gripping at Leo's heart is tight now, oh, much too tight for a spy and a killer and a man who gives up an eye for a complete stranger without stopping to think, as if people are worth something to him, as if he doesn't have to work to see the lives and complexities of the people around him, as if it's the simplest thing in the world to put himself in the path of danger for someone to whom he owes nothing._

_Krem's mouth, twisting in the same confusion that has curdled Leo's heart. A quick glance Leo's way, and understanding on his face._ 'That's _how he lost the eye.')_

"Thank you," Leo managed. "I needed that."

Bull's horns were lit with the last shreds of sunset, hot gold poured over the blackened surfaces, and they shook as the Qunari chuckled. "No worries, kadan. I just..." He snorted, running a hand over his face, tugging the dangling eyepatch free of his horn. "I just hope this has helped, a little."

Something tightened in Leo's gut. His jaw clenched. There was a hot, angry feeling suddenly rising in his lungs. "It's not this," he said, voice quiet, even. _Too_ even. "It's _you._ "

Bull looked up, brows rising again. 

A ragged breath forced itself into Leo's body. "I love you, Bull."

 

*

 

Bull thought for a second that someone had set off a flask of gaatlok against his chest.

_(The ring of swords and the flash of steel among the camps outside Haven, and the young Herald, before him again like a prisoner facing judgment. The Bull, towering over him in the morning light. If he's so afraid of me, why does he keep coming back?_

_'My people don't pick leaders from the strongest, or the smartest, or even the most talented.' Irritation, rising in his throat. Why? 'We pick the ones willing to make the hard decisions... and live with the consequences.'_

_Leo Trevelyan, looking up sharply, swallowing hard as his eyes dart over the Iron Bull's face, fear tight between his teeth. An answer, in a way.)_

Leo's brows had drawn together, but he didn't look away. There was no fear on his face, now. Just a person, waiting for an answer.

Bull managed to force a laugh, though he had no idea where it might have come from. "Going soft on me, kadan?"

Leo looked away. 

Bull swallowed. Suddenly, he felt anxious, restless. With a shudder of adrenaline running down his spine, he sat up, scrubbing helplessly at his own naked face.

At his side, Leo shifted. "I need to tell you something," the mage murmured. When Bull glanced up, Leo was up on his elbows, pulling down one of the dragon's teeth from where it dangled at the headboard's posts--Bull's, instantly recognizable to him. To them both, Bull realized. He felt his throat tighten. Anyone else would have been hard-pressed to tell the difference between the two.

As Bull watched, Leo's delicate fingers were running over the tooth's mounting, and in a vague, distant kind of way, the Qunari couldn't help but notice the sliver of green light reflected off the obsidian from his left palm. "We know where Corypheus' forces are gathering, now. The Inquisition deploys for the Arbor Wilds within the week." He paused, jaw tightening. "It's almost over."

Leo's thumb paused, and flicked open a hidden catch that Bull had never fucking noticed on the amulet's base, in all the months he'd been wearing it.

"Nearly all of them were destroyed when First Enchanter Wynne and her people took the White Spire," Leo was saying, his voice soft but something harsh caught in his throat. "Most of the mages that found theirs smashed them. I don't know why I didn't." His lips twisted. "I should have told you sooner."

Wordlessly, he offered up the tooth to Bull. His hand was shaking, but even now, he met the Qunari's gaze without flinching.

Slowly, Bull accepted the offering. 

Inside the tooth, in a thin chamber that had been carved straight into the bone, was a slender vial of dark fluid.

"No matter how far apart we are," Leo murmured, "we're always together." He met Bull's gaze again, shaking but solid as granite. "Cullen can show you how to use it. To find me." He inhaled, and sank back against the headboard, finally looking away. "If you need to."

"Fuck," the Iron Bull breathed. "Fuck."

His hands were shaking now, and it took effort to close the hidden latch on the little hollow, his fingers curling around the amulet as if it might shatter. 

"Bull," Leo whispered, "if I don't survive this--"

_"Katoh."_

Beside him, Bull felt Leo freeze.

The word had torn out of him before he even realized he was saying it. Teeth bared, Bull dragged his free hand down his face, trying to shake himself free of the sharp, hot thing in his chest. "Katoh," he said again, barely a real sound in the silence of the Inquisitor's quarters. "I can't-- Please. Katoh." He looked up, swallowing. "I love you, too," he whispered.

A wordless, ragged sound escaped Leo's throat, and then the mage was in Bull's arms, and he was pulling him close, tightening his grip as if he could stop time where it was, with Leo's warmth pressed tight and solid and real against his chest.

 

*

 

"Enough," Leo snapped, his eyes going cold.

The witch turned on him, hands slicing through the air. "You cannot honestly--"

 _"I said, enough,"_ the Inquisitor roared, and abruptly, there was silence before the Well of Sorrows.

The Iron Bull swallowed, hard. Beside him, he heard Dorian's intake of breath, saw the man's nostrils flare. 

Morrigan's brows drew together, and she tightened her jaw, taking a challenging step forward. "If this Well offers power that can be turned against Corypheus," she hissed, "can you afford not to use it?" Her palms lifted. "Let me _drink_ , Inquisitor."

Beyond the Temple, a distant explosion shook the jungle, and Bull could hear the explosion of wings as more birds fled the battlefield. How long had the battle dragged on? How many of the Inquisition's soldiers were dead or dying among the trees, their lives given to give the Inquisitor the time he needed to reach this point?

It was much, much too hot here, and Bull couldn't tear his eyes away from Leo's form, couldn't shake the feeling that he'd lost ten years somewhere--that he stood not in the company of the Inquisitor's strike force, but among his troops on the shore of Seheron. Standing in that doorway. Waiting for the arrow to strike.

Leo Trevelyan's expression did not change. But Bull could see the tension in his shoulders, the iron behind his eyes.

"Of those present," Morrigan pressed, "I alone have the training to make use of this. I alone have the knowledge to wield its power." Her eyes narrowed. "Can you honestly tell me there is _anyone_ better suited?"

"If she wants to risk herself," Dorian hissed, "let her!"

"So many voices," Cole murmured. "They'd be in your head, talking over you." He looked up, peering out at the Inquisitor from beneath the shadows of his hat, his knives still dangling, bloody, from his fingers, shards of the red lyrium that had wrapped around Samson's body still clinging to the steel. "You don't want them," he whispered.

Very briefly, Leo's eyes closed. 

Then his face lifted, and he turned and met Bull's gaze.

_('We pick the ones willing to make the hard decisions... and live with the consequences.')_

There was sweat on Bull's skin, his harness chafing at the scar under his shoulderblade. Despite the chaos of the battle raging outside, he could still hear the quiet rush of water, still feel the sun on his back, the blood clinging to his fingers, the sting of wounds half-healed by elfroot and thick, bitter potions. 

He could feel the weight of the dragon's tooth like a stone around his neck.

Leo's eyes were still fixed on Bull, shadowed and dull and tired in his pale face. 

Within them was peace, and a silent apology.

Bull, transfixed, felt his throat close.

Then the Inquisitor turned away, heedless of Morrigan's strangled cry of protest, and stepped into the Well of Sorrows.


	9. Chapter 9

_**VIII: EPILOGUE** _

The Iron Bull had no idea how long he was on his knees, digging through the great field of rubble that was all that remained of the Temple of Sacred Ashes.

Inquisition forces picked their way through the debris all around him, shouting to each other through the whistle of the night air. He could still hear rock breaking underfoot, the shattered stones and walls of the Temple groaning as they settled back into the earth.

Dragon bone and obsidian had dug a furrow into Bull's palm.

The skies had finally begun to clear, and the moonlight cast eerie shadows over the destruction. There was a great, looming shadow to his left, draped across the shattered remnants of what had once been a mosaic--the sinking, disintegrated corpse of Corypheus' dragon.

_(Leo's face, hard and focused, his staff lifting, ice rising in sharpened arcs around him, turning without fear toward the dragon's scream. Taarsidath-an halsaam.)_

High overhead, a ragged green scar now hung, gentle and serene, in the starry sky.

A shout went up. Bull's blood went cold, and he was instantly moving, surging over the rubble, his axe forgotten in the dust behind him. 

Some of the Temple's stairs had survived the fall, and Bull leapt up them three at a time. Blackened spikes of stone and deadened lyrium spires flashed past him, and he barely saw them, barely felt the cold rushing past his skin, barely noticed the jolt of fresh pain that snapped through the wound in his side with every charging step. 

The shout came again, closer now. He was almost at the top, and there was a scout at the top of the stairs, pointing--

Bull's throat closed.

At the peak of the great path of destruction that the Temple had left, one wide, flat space had survived. In its center, alone, pale and frail-looking under the light of the moons, staring blankly at his hands, stood the Inquisitor.

Bull broke into a dead run, and reached Leo's side just as the young man's knees buckled. 

"Shit, kadan--hold on, I've got you. I've got you."

The mage went limp, his fingers curling weakly against Bull's chest. He didn't look injured, but he was shaking, his whole body trembling against Bull's. 

"Bull," he whispered.

"I've got you, kadan," Bull murmured, his good eye already darting past Leo's shoulder, looking for help. "I've got you." His eye closed, and he swallowed. "And hey, look at you, all not-dead."

Thank fuck. Thank fuck.

"Is it over?" Leo's eyes were wide and staring, even as his cheek came to rest against Bull's skin. "Is it done?"

Beyond them, a massive streak of blackened stone stretched across the courtyard. Bull could feel the magic still hanging in the air, tingling over his skin, and whole sections of the shattered tile had been half-melted under the force of the power released here.

Of Corypheus, there was no trace.

"Yeah, kadan," he whispered, drawing Leo close. "You did it. It's over."

 

*

 

Nothing seemed real. 

Leo drifted through the party as if gravity had ceased to touch him, smiling and nodding in all the right places and barely processing any of it. People kept congratulating him, staring at him with awe in their eyes, bowing, and he could hardly comprehend it.

But Bull was there, his bulk and his horns ever-visible above the crowds, and Leo felt as though something had come loose in his gut, something impossibly heavy lifted from his shoulders.

_('Whenever you need an ass kicked, the Iron Bull is with you.'_  
  
_'No matter what else happens, this is where I want to be.')_

"There's still fear," came a low murmur from his side. "But you healed what was hurt." 

Leo turned, and found Cole, staring out over the crowd from his perch atop one of the tables, rocking slightly on the palms of his hands. 

"They don't want to forget what happened," the little spirit hummed. "Even if it gives them nightmares. It would hurt less, but it matters to them."

Leo swallowed. The words seemed to turn on a piercing point at the base of his throat, in the corners of his eyes, in the shape of the Bull's horns above the drifting crowds. "The fear reminds people of what they fought for," he said, voice rough.

Cole lifted his face, and for a moment, gazed up at the Inquisitor from beneath the brim of his hat. "It's part of being people. I don't understand, but..." His eyes slid sideways, following the path of Leo's gaze. "They need it. They're happy."

Across the hall, as if feeling Leo's eyes on his skin, the Iron Bull turned, a mug halfway to his lips. He paused, and a touch of warmth quirked at the corner of his lip, and a thunderbolt went through Leo's chest.

"They _are_ happy," Leo whispered, but Cole was already gone. 

Someone had begun to sing, a high and flying hymn of praise, or perhaps it was the battle song of the Chargers, drifting in on the evening breeze. It hardly mattered, not when his feet were carrying him towards the Iron Bull.

"Kadan," the Qunari said, smiling, and all around him, the noise of the crowds fell away.

"The Iron Bull," Leo murmured, throat tight with words unsaid.

"You know, it's weird." Bull lifted his mug, his eye never leaving Leo's face. "I joined the Inquisition under orders from the Ben-Hassrath, but now..." His brow furrowed, and he drank, frowning thoughtfully into his cup. "Now that it's done, I've got no orders. For the first time in my life, I can go wherever I want."

Leo took a slow step forward, his hands tucked behind his back. "Or," he murmured, "you could stay."

Bull's eye lifted, black and piercing, to meet the young man's gaze. 

"Or I could stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everybody, and thanks for being patient with me. Hit me up on tumblr (lekosis.tumblr.com) if you want to scream about things with me.


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